Date: Mon, 23 Apr 2012 21:01:46 -0700 (PDT) From: Jerlar Subject: New Shower, Part 17-Next Generation This story contains graphic sexual scenes between males. If material of this nature offends you then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age in most states you are not allowed to read this story by law. This story is purely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to person's living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental. The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication or publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to which it has been posted, without the consent of the author. Mark Stevens New Shower, Part 17 -- Next Generation I was in the kitchen carving the roast when the back door opened, and Dennis stuck his head inside. "Anybody home?" he called out. "You're just in time," I greeted my uncle. "Food's on the table." "What's up, Steve?" My uncle pulled his jacket off and hung it on one of the hooks beside the door. "Mom cooked a pot roast for sandwiches. You're just in time." Dad came into the kitchen. "What's up, Den?" he asked. "How's the retired life?" "It's great." Dad looked around the kitchen. "Brandon still upstairs?" he asked. I nodded. "He is. Why don't you call him down?" As Dad walked to the bottom of the stairs I turned to Dennis and said, "I have a story to tell you later." My uncle had a puzzled look on his face. "About?" I took a plate of sliced beef over and placed it in the middle of the table. "Brandon." "I'm listening." Dad was calling Brandon to dinner. "Later," I said and went for the bread. I was searching the frig for the sandwich trimmings when my son joined us in the kitchen. I shut the refrigerator door and placed the things on the table. I didn't face my son immediately. I was surprised to find myself suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. "Let's eat," Dad said taking his usual chair at the table. During the meal Dad and Dennis did most of the talking. I mainly answered any question they would ask, and Brandon didn't speak at all. It didn't take me long to realize he was just as uncomfortable in the situation as I was. Dennis asked, "What's with you two? You've hardly said a word." "Which is unlike either one of you," Dad added. "Just listening," I said. I forced a smile to appear on my face. "I suppose that's your excuse, too?" Dad eyed his grandson sharply from across the table. "It is. How do you think I get so damned smart?" He gave his grandfather a sloppy grin. We finished our meal, ending with some left over pie from another meal Mom had fixed. "Do you need my help?" Brandon asked standing to his feet. "We've got it covered," I told him. My son left the room and disappeared up the stairs. Dad turned to me. "What the hell is his problem?" The three of us were still sitting around the kitchen table. I leaned forward and spoke softly. I didn't' want Brandon to hear what I had to say. "Brandon and I had a little situation this afternoon," I began. The light bulb suddenly went on in my father's head. "You caught him jacking off, didn't you?" I nodded. "Yep, I sure did." "No shit?" Dennis interrupted what I was about to add. "Fuck." Dennis said the word a little loud. I put a finger to my lips. "I don't want him to hear." "So, explain the situation," Dad said. "Well, as I said, I caught Brandon jacking off in his room. He intended for me to see him," I added for Dennis' benefit. "You've got to be kidding." "Seriously, Dennis, when a guy is bare assed naked on the bed with the door to his room opened, and he's jacking off, well, you tell me what that means." "Fuck and I had to miss that sight. Damn." "It was hot," I assured him. "Of course, today wasn't' the first time." I thought my uncle's chin was going to drop to the floor. Not a word came out of him. "So, what did you do when you saw him?" My father looked at my uncle and smiled. "Surely you know the answer to that question," he said. "You join him?" "And what if I did?" "I would say you did the only thing you could have done." "Well, I didn't; sorry to disappoint you." "Then what did you do?" "The first time I watched him from the hall. We both shot a nice load," I added for my uncle's benefit. "Oh, fucking hot, Dude." "But that's not the reason Brandon was so quiet this evening." "Explain." Dad spoke the word quietly, but I could hear the demand coming through loud and clear in the tone of his voice. "Well, this afternoon when I went upstairs, I saw Brandon again on his bed, naked, and jacking off. The door was open, and he was giving one hot show. He was making me so horny I had to pull my cock out and stroke it." "If he had already given you one show, why should this one be any different? Why should it cause him to clam up the way he did this evening?" I looked directly into my uncle's eyes and said, "Because this time I left his door and went to my own room. I pulled my clothes off, jumped on the bed, and began playing with my body and jacking my cock. And I have absolutely no doubt my son stood outside my door and watched me," I ended. "You know that because?" "Because I heard foot steps and when I stuck my head out into the hall, I heard his door close." "Fuck, why do I miss all of this hot shit?" I couldn't believe my uncle. Was he so turned on by what had happened that he couldn't see where my concern was coming from? "Steve?" Dad said my name softly, and I turned and looked at him. "I can understand your concern. I do," he added. "However, I think if you will just take a step back, give Brandon some space, this situation will take care of its self." "You really think so?" "I do. After all, you're the adult here, and even then, didn't you have some doubts about what you did this afternoon?" I nodded my head. "I still do," I said. "Think about it, Steve, if Brandon hadn't wanted you to see him, he would have displayed himself in such a manner. Also, think about this: if your son wanted you to see his naked body, don't you think he wanted to watch you?" When I didn't reply, Dad said, "Trust me, Son, you didn't do a damned thing he didn't want you to." "How can you be so sure?" Dad shrugged his shoulders and remained quiet, and for some unexplained reason, that shrug gave me all the confidence I needed. "Thanks," I said. I stood to my feet. "Let's get this mess cleaned up and see what's next on this evening's agenda." <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< I came up the stairs and stopped in front of Brandon's room. The door was closed this time. I tapped lightly and waited. "Come in." I pushed the door open. "Can I come in?" Brandon was on the bed, his hands behind his head. I walked across the room and sat on the side of his bed. I asked, "Everything all right?" "I'm cool," was his response. "'Cool' is it?" He nodded. "Cool." "Are we cool?" My son looked at me a moment before he answered. "Why shouldn't we be?" I shook my head. "Just checking." A grin suddenly appeared on my son's face. "We're better than `cool', Dad," he assured me. I suddenly felt like a weight had been lifted from my chest. It was much easier to get air to my lungs. "I'm glad to hear that," I assured him. Brandon rose up on the bed, and surprising the hell out of me, he pulled me into a hug. "Dad, do you know how much I love you?" He whispered the words in my ear. "I do now," I assured him. He pulled away from me. No words could explain the feeling that passed between the two of us, but whatever it was, there was such a feeling of peace in the room. My first thought now that things were all right between us, was to get up and leave the room. I stood to my feet and walked to the door. When I turned back, the look on my son's face melted my heart. I returned to his bed. "Brandon, we need to talk, don't we?" "I'd like that." "Are you referring to me and you?" "Dad, do you hate me?" I wouldn't have been surprised by most things he could have said to me; however, the question he asked would never have crossed my mind. "I could never hate you, Son. Why the hell would you even ask such a thing?" He hung his head and said, "Because of what I've done." Seeing the hurt, the confusion in my son's eyes, I lost any uncomfortable feeling I may have still possessed. I hugged him tightly to me. "Brandon, you have done nothing to be ashamed of." "I guess you know I wanted you to catch me jacking off?" I nodded. "I did." "And that doesn't make you ashamed of me; make you hate me?" "Fuck it, Brandon; can't you see I wanted it as much as you? You do know I stood outside your room the first time and jacked off with you? And the second time, I know you watched me jack off." "I just couldn't help it, Dad. I don't know why I think you're so hot, but I do." I looked at my son, and my brain was flooded with so many different thoughts all at the same time, and I felt bogged down, not knowing how or where to begin. I thought about his age. Hell, he was just fourteen; could he process everything I wanted drop on him? I made up my mind. I gave him a smile. "Brandon, there's something I want to tell you; however, what I say has to remain between the two of us. You have to give me your word." He promised me, and I began a conversation that would forever change the way my son and I felt about each other. "Brandon, when I wasn't much older than you I began thinking about my father in pretty much the same way you have about me. When Grandpa was younger, he was so fucking hot. He still is," I added. "Anyway, when I was not much older than you, Grandpa decided to build the shower house. It took a month or better to complete the project, and Uncle Dennis and I both helped get it finished. About that same time I decided to be honest with Grandpa, and I told him how I felt. When we started taking showers together in the new shower house, I couldn't keep my eyes off his body." "He is hot," Brandon interrupted, and added, "for an old guy." I smiled. "I'm not sure he would appreciate you calling him `old'." "Just how old is he?" "Fifty-Seven." "Damn, that's old." "Age has nothing to do with this, but, hey, we're digressing here. Let's get back on track. "About the time the shower house was finished, as I was saying, I convinced Dad how I really felt about him." My son couldn't keep from interrupting. "Did you guys jack off together?" Time to drop the bomb. I nodded my head. "We did, and we still do when we get the chance." "No shit?" "No shit," I echoed. Brandon leaned back on his bed. "Tell me." Time to engage the second bomb. "We didn't just jack off." It took a minute for Brandon to digest my words. When he did, his eyes became big as silver dollars. "You fucked Grandpa?" "I did. And he fucked me," I added. My confession seemed to leave my son speechless. "So, are you disappointed in me?" My son, ever the mischievous one, gave me a grin and rubbed his crotch with his hand. "Not disappointed," he said and added, "turned on." "You want to know something else?" "There's more?" I could hear the surprise in Brandon's voice. "Oh, yeah," I said. "You see, not only have I fucked Grandpa, but I've had my cock up Uncle Dennis' ass many times." "Oh my God, I can't get over you, Dad." "Do you have any other questions?" "I might have a couple." "I'm listening." "Well, I sort of have a good idea what you look like naked." He grinned as he said these words. "However, I would love for you to describe Uncle Dennis. Grandpa, too," he added. "You're sure about that?" "Hell yeah, I'm sure." "Well, you've seen them both many times in the shower, so you know how hairy they both are. We all are," I added. He nodded and waited for me to continue. "They both have a nice hairy ass; very tight for fucking. And yes, for your information, I love fucking them both. However, I enjoy just about as much feeling their cocks inside my ass filling me with their cum," I added. "You cum inside them?" I could tell by his voice he was getting really turned by my words. I told him we did. "We've never used rubbers," I explained. "Is it safe? I've heard stories that it's not." I looked closely at my son and decided to be as honest with him as I could. "Brandon, your grandpa, uncle and I, we don't fuck around. By that, I mean we only fuck each other, so, yes, because of that, it's completely safe to fuck raw. I don't know if you would ever want to get fucked or even to fuck, but if you should, always, and I repeat, always, use a rubber." "I don't think I would want to fuck," he said quietly. "Well, that's okay too," I assured him. "If jacking and oral is all you ever do, then that is usually pretty safe." Brandon suddenly got a funny look on his face. "Dad, I didn't say I didn't want to fuck, or get fucked. What I said was I didn't want to fuck others." Suddenly I felt like I was the child and my son, the parent. "What are you saying, Brandon?" "Shit, Dad, do I have to spell it out to you?" Suddenly it dawned on me what he was trying to say. "You want to fuck me." "I think I would like that. As for me getting fucked, I'm not so sure about that. At least just yet," he added. I stood to my feet. "I think I'm going to leave you; give you some time to process what I've laid on you." Again, my son, always a tease, rubbed his crotch. "Are you sure you don't want to get on the bed and jack off with me?" My cock had been hard for quite some time inside my pants, and suddenly I felt a thick glob of pre cum leak out the tip and fall into my pubes. It took everything I had in me to keep from pulling my clothes off and falling down beside my son, my naked body next to his. Instead, I said, "Brandon, there's nothing more I would love to do at the moment; however, this is what I'm going to do. I'm going to leave you, as I said, going to give you time to process everything. After your head's cleared, and," I reached down and gave his hard dick a squeeze," you empty this big thing, we'll talk again." I walked to the door and turned back to face him. With a grin, I said, "I may have that backward, Brandon. You should probably drain your cock, and then think about our talk. Then we'll get together." I closed the door behind me, but not before I heard him unsnapping his jeans. As horny as he had been when I left him, I was pretty sure his load had already hit his stomach by the time I reached the living room. End Part 17 Mark Stevens