Date: Sat, 13 Apr 2024 00:32:05 +0000
From: dicksonhill2@proton.me
Subject: Quick and Dirty Tales 2: Nature and Nurture

The following is second chapter of Quick and Dirty Tales, a series meant
to be stand alone single chapters for quick release, designed to be
different from my long winded previous submissions.They only related by
the subject matter and that they all happen in the same universe (as do
all my stories).

Please remember that this is all fantasy and should not be taken as
endorsement of the behaviors herein. Children cannot consent.

That being said we all take out our cocks and relieve a bit of tension on
Nifty, try taking out your wallet and relieve their tension by donating
to keep the site open.

If you enjoy the story, you can read my others: "Lonely Little Boy"
"The Neighbor Dad" "A Note to Heaven" and the poorly received
"Revanche", or you could search Dicksonhill and pull up all my
submissions.

If you'd like to chat I do so on Telegram @Dicksonhill and at proton
mail @ Dicksonhill2@protonmail.me. I appreciate feedback and chat.


------------------


Nature and Nurture

1964 -


Mom was in a real bad mood which was becoming more frequent lately. I
didn't see what she could be so upset about, we lived a comfortable
life, we had a big house, a sweet car and had lots of friends. I didn't
really get what bugged her. She was nice enough usually but something had
a bee in her bonnet.


"Can't you stop making that infernal noise?" She muttered while I
chewed my Cap'n Crunch cereal.


"Golly, what's got you in such a twist mom?" I asked as I tongued the
roof of my mouth surveying the damage the cereal wrought.


She looked at me, her mood softened. "I'm sorry baby, your dad was in
his study all night last night..." she tapped her front teeth as she
paused, "and it seems like he's been in there more and more lately,"
she frowned.


"What's pop up to?" He couldn't be up to much, he was a professor at
the big college nearby. Seemed all he did was read and write all the
time. I wasn't allowed in his study, but I knew it smelled of old
leather and pipe smoke.


"He's writing the parameters of some experiment  or other he wants to
run I'd imagine," she finished, tapping her teeth in that weird way she
did when she was deep in thought.


"You guys never tell me what he teaches anyway... what experiments
could he be running? Is he a nukular scientist?" I asked suddenly
excited, everything was nukular back then.


She blushed, "Nuclear and no, let's change the subject." I saw her
force the topic out of her mind and painted on a smile for me. She asked
me milquetoast questions designed to make me forget my own question. That
got me curious.


Pops chose that moment to grace us with his presence. He had a grey blue
cardigan with a white button up and bow tie; over dark grey slacks and
his ever present pipe hanging from his lip. He saw me sitting there with
a spoon in hand stalled in the process of feeding myself as I stared at
him.


Dad was very handsome, like a cross between Cary Grant and Rock Hudson.
Jet black hair with a feather of grey at the temples and a hint of a five
o'clock shadow despite when he'd last shaved. His sparkling blue eyes
did nothing to hide a keen intelligence. His mouth and the sides of his
eyes showed fine lines highlighting his hours of deep thought. His hands
were large and yet held a refined quality to them with a tell tale smear
of ink from his constant writing.


He stared at me for a disconcerting amount of time, almost making me feel
like an object he was trying to take apart in his mind. Then a slight
gleam in his eye.


"Jules," what he called my mother, "how old is the boy now?" I was
used to being called the boy and spoken over instead of to, by him.


"Why he's thirteen of course, Robert, you know this" she frowned,
whether at his lack of memory or something else I never learned.


"Yes, yes, thirteen you say," in an absent voice, but his fingers
caressed his chin as he smiled down at me. "Of course he's thirteen,
practically a man aren't you Tommy."


Directly addressed by my father, I was too shocked to respond right away,
"... y-yes sir." I smiled at the attention.


"Say Jules, how about you take the day and go out with one of the girls
or something." His eyes nearly measured me. I sat up straighter under
his scrutiny.


She looked from me to him suspiciously but asked, "I can take the
car?"


He turned his attention to her for a second and looked as though he would
say no but I caught his attention again and he waved her off, "Of
course, just be careful."


Her brow furrowed, "Ok Robert what's going on? Am I going to come back
and find Tommy experimented on?" My anxiety went through the roof with
that.


He turned to her almost with an air of impatience. "Yes dear, Tommy is
at an age that perfectly aligns with my latest paper and I'd like some
practical knowledge before I can finalize my thesis. Tommy doesn't mind
being the subject of study, do you Tommy?"


Again he addressed me directly and so starved was I for attention from my
father I leapt with both feet. "No I would love to spend time with
pops," with a withering look I changed my sentence, "I mean father."


She gave me a look that was indecipherable, but somehow said to me, `you
make your bed you lay in it'. My stomach twisted a bit at the thought of
not knowing what I'd just signed on to, but I looked at my father openly
assessing me, and I quashed the qualms as best I could.


Mother hugged me, held me at arms length looking at me (as if for the
last time) and went her way to call Gladys for a girls day.


As soon as she was out of the room, dad gave me instructions:


 1. Go to the bathroom and have a bowel movement, take a bath and be
    thorough.
 2. Dress in a t-shirt and your underwear and wear your robe.
 3. Be at my study door at precisely 12pm.


He gave the details to me in quick and curt sentences that begged no
dillydallying as he would say it. My stomach was a queasy sort of excited
as I went about meeting the demands of my father's instructions.


First the bath, I stripped for the bath, taking my y-fronts off and
contemplating the instructions. How did one bath thoroughly? I stepped
into the warm water and lathered up. Lately there was a light red hair
starting to grow at the top  of my groin. I guess I had to clean that
well. And my foreskin... I always pretended it was an anteater with its
snoot going so far past the end of my penis, I cleaned it really well,
that felt good. What else, I did a mental checklist and found I forgot
the first part. I jumped out of the bath water slicked my smooth body as
I sat on the toilet and did my business. Now I understood what he meant
by thoroughly cleaning. I also found that using the facilities after
taking a bath was a hassle I didn't soon want to repeat, wet bottom and
toilet paper are a nightmare.


I hopped back in the tub and once again cleaned but paid special
attention to my bottom.  I rinsed and dried off and went to find clean
undergarments. I donned the appropriate attire and checked the time, I
had a bit of time to linger. I cleaned up a bit, straightening and
re-straightening things that weren't out of sorts in the first place. I
was very nervous.


Mom came in and sat on my bed. She looked... not worried but... tense?


"Whu'cha doin'?" I asked.


"Tommy...," she stopped and started a few times. "Ahem," more
resolutely, "Tommy your dad is a professor..."


"Ahh gee mom I already know that..."


"Don't interrupt me," she sounded uncharacteristically stern. "Your
dad..." she swallowed, "is an anthropologist and researches human
sexuality." She hurried through the last part. She blushed but looked at
me for understanding.


I heard sex from my mom, and I blushed, that's a word that everyone knew
and everyone had strange ideas about it, she saw no glimmer of
comprehension.


She sighed and drove on. "Your dad studies how people and cultures have
sex..."


I was not fond of my mother using that word and wanted to escape, but I
loved her dearly and stayed put since she was obviously trying hard to
explain something at a bit of a cost to her.


"Let's see..." her eyes looked up to the ceiling as she thought.
"Well Tommy, I think you're about to learn about sex..." under her
breath I thought I heard, "I hope that's all." She continued, "Your
dad is a brilliant man, but can sometimes... he can sometimes forget
that we are people..." she sounded honest but said "I mean can
sometimes forget our feelings... ahhh... I don't really know what I
mean, but remember you can always say no." She looked as if there was
more to say but she didn't know what or how to say it. She stood, looked
at the clock on my desk and hugged me. "I love you Tommy, and so does
he, in his own way..." as if to herself as she left the room "he'll
never hurt him." She didn't sound convinced, and hurried out the door.


She said "I love you" with such finality I was suddenly extremely
nervous. The clock was two minutes to exactly twelve as I left my room,
almost trembling wrapped in my dark blue robe.


I took enough time that I stood in front of dad's study door. As the
chime on his grandfather's clock rang out, he opened the door.


He stood there much as he had been earlier, but he appeared somehow more
put together. His hair was freshly washed and combed set with his
signature style. He smelled of Old Spice, talc and the ubiquitous pipe.
His cardigan was a bright red smoking jacket tied loosely at the waist
and his bow tie was now a long paisley cravat. His pants, the same grey
but... tighter? I could see in which direction he dressed and I blushed.
He smiled warmly.


"Come in Tommy," he directed confidently. "You're right in time,
thank you, punctuality is important for men. Why don't you have a seat
in front of my desk as I finish up some paperwork." His firm hand guided
me to a deep backed dark leather chair, I felt swallowed by the seat as
dad went and sat at his desk reading and editing something in a leather
bound folder.


I took the opportunity to both look around and distract myself from the
nervous pit I felt in my stomach. The walls of my father's study were
crowded with books and bookshelves, for the most part neatly organized
and meticulously placed, the bookshelf behind him however appeared more
chaotic as though it were well used and frequently consulted. A book on
his desk looked newish but definitely deeply used, bits of paper that
held places were heavily notated. The name I couldn't read but it was
written by Doctor Bieber. It sat atop books written by a Doctor West,
Doctor Fenichel, all similarly notated excepting a new one barely notated
at all by a Doctor O'Connor.


I saw what I assumed was dad's `thinking' chair, a high backed
intimidating wooden with a red velvet cushioning little pretty with a
small table with a single ashtray and jar of tobacco on it. To say the
room was cozy would be an overstatement but it somehow felt...
welcoming. It had to be the scents I so closely associated with my
frequently absent father. I don't think I was aware at that point how
much I longed for his attention, though the rapidity with which I agreed
to be with him tonight should have told me.


Dad had for some unknown time stopped his activity and was silently
watching me as I took in his office. I started with surprise as I became
aware of his gaze while puffing on his pipe. He watched me as though he
were seeing through me in his contemplation. I curiously returned his
stare.


Dad stood and rounded his desk perching on its edge in front of me, his
legs crossed with his leather house slipper tapping the air.


He abruptly spoke, "You will no doubt be well aware of the notions of
Kinsey and his study of human sexuality."


I blankly stared back at him wishing I could say yes to whatever he had
just said but I had no clue. He looked momentarily perplexed, rubbed his
chin in thought preparing a new path of his questioning.


While he thought his right hand, not holding his pipe,previously laying
on his leg, seemingly unconsciously moved slowly to his groin and
adjusted the bulge there. My eyes focused on the movement. His hand
stayed there, doing what I could only describe as toying with himself as
he thought. My mouth fell open, I quickly looked up at his eyes but he
was pondering something. I quickly looked back at his hand as it toyed
with the fabric covering his bulge, bringing it ever clearer into focus.


"Well I had thought you to be better read, but maybe you're a bit young
for that." He seemed to realize where his hand was and just asserted
control of it and lay it flat over the interesting lump.


Dad uncrossed his legs and sat back on the desk, his legs spread, pants
tight against his groin. I forced my eyes up to meet a slight smile
across his face. Had I been caught looking.


He went on, "I'm doing a study that is meant to enlighten our
understanding of male sexuality." I stared blankly yet eagerly back at
him. "You seem woefully under informed on this subject." His voice and
stance suggested deep disappointment. "Maybe I have been too caught up
to properly educate you, but that ends today." He scooted forward,
tightening the little slack his pants had, enhancing the bulge between
his thighs. My eyes were drawn to the unbelievable sight.


He stood and walked over to his thinking chair. Dad tapped out his pipe
into the ashtray as he continued. "Human male sexuality is a very
interesting and highly debated area of study..." he paused and looked
down at me, "but you are not one of my students are you?" He smiled at
me suddenly taking into account his audience.


His pipe tapped out, he came and stood before me again. He appeared to be
thinking very hard. "This morning I saw you and instantly I knew I had
the perfect subject to test a theory on, it was all clinical and detached
and I knew just how to proceed, yet, now with you so close I find I'm at
a loss." He smiled uncharacteristically warmly at me with a bit of a
self effacing chuckle. Dad squatted down in front of me, held the arms of
my chair to steady himself and peered directly in my eyes.


"My boy... Tommy, they say psychologists become so to better understand
themselves, I find myself now confronting that same thought." He placed
his hand on my smaller one and spoke softly to me.  "My father is much
like I am, it seems, he was a scholar, hardly paid me any attention and
was a bit of a harsh expectation on me. I looked up to him and in some
ways I am who I am because I wanted to be him. Your grandmother is very
warm and kind and a bit overprotective." He looked to me for a glimmer
of understanding, finding none he continued. "It appears, my boy, that
in trying to prove a theory I'm really trying to understand myself."


He turned and picked up a picture of his father that was in a gilded
frame on his desk.


He put back the picture and surprisingly sat crossed legged on the floor
in front of me, looking up at me, "Can I ask you a few questions?"


Totally out of sorts but feeling my heart beat faster, seeing my father
so mysteriously discombobulated I stammered out, "S-sure pops, I mean
sir."


He smiled ruefully. "Do you know what I do for a living?"


"Mom told me today you study sex." I said the sex part quietly.


He chuckled, "True to a degree, do you know what sex is?"


"I know it's a dirty word."


"What!?" He exclaimed, "to think my son thinks sex is dirty. That's
my fault my boy, sex is a natural part of human life and is expressed in
many different ways in many different cultures, and all should be
celebrated."


I was enthralled by his passion, "but, but what is it?"


"I asked you first." He waited patiently.


"Billy says it's where you make a baby by peeing on a girl, Burt says
it's putting your thing in butts to get girls pregnant and David says his
mom says not to kiss girls in bathing suits cuz they'll get pregnant."
I spouted most of what I had heard.


Dad laughed loudly, "Poppycock, all of it, my next study should be on
the misinformation about mating." He looked at me kindly, "Sex is
something shared between two people, it's usually pleasurable, and not
always meant to make babies."


"How is it done?" I was gagging for answers.


He slipped into the lecturer mode for a second before catching himself.
"It's primarily done with genital... There are lots of ways to do it,
some people like it one way and others like it other ways, infinite
diversity in infinite combinations," he quoted. "but this brings me
back to the study I mentioned."


He stood again, "I'm going to teach you some things and get your
response ok?" He asked.


I shook my head yes, extremely intrigued by what I've learned so far.


"Here goes." He loosened the belt of his smoking jacket and removed the
garment. He stood in a starched white long sleeved button down, with a
paisley cravat and a white T-shirt underneath. I leaned forward, there
was no way what I thought was going to happen was going to happen. I felt
my underwear tighten.


Dad folded the jacket and removing the cravat placed them on his desk. He
unbuttoned his shirt and removed it. Looking down at me, he smiled at me,
nearly leaning out of my seat as I strove to look closer. He placed the
shirt on the desk neatly and began to remove his leather house slippers.
Pushing them with his silky sock covered foot neatly against the desk, he
reached for his belt. My mouth hung open I was stunned into silence, my
eyes itched from avoiding blinking.


Dad unlaced his thin belt from his waist and placed it on his shirt. He
took a step closer. "I find as I'm with you now and the veil of
academia is lifted, I wish I had been closer with my father." He said as
he reached for the clasp on his trousers, unfastening them, he grasped
the lower part of his crotch while he lowered his zipper, revealing a
bright white cloth underneath. "I always wondered what he would look
like." He lowered his pants, stepping neatly out of them. He stood
before me folding his slacks meticulously in his loose fitting white
boxers, white T-shirt and socks with garter belts around his claves. He
turned to put the clothing behind him, the boxers obviously previously
ironed, draped his backside neatly.


My chest was pounding, my palms were sweating and slipping on the refined
leather and I could feel my loins aching. He turned back to me, I could
clearly make out a heavy swing behind the white material.


He returned to lecture mode and this time he persisted with it as he bent
and unbuckled the garters holding up his socks and removed and placed
them.  "There is a school of thought that suggests that boys, raised by
overindulging or overprotective mothers and distant or abusive fathers
tend to raise a certain type of boy." He stated as he stood before me in
just his white under clothing the front right leg of his boxers pushed
out a bit. "Today I realized two things. One, when I saw you this
morning, you fit the environmental recipe perfectly, I am sorry for being
so distant by the way. And two as I pondered it just now, so was I. My
intent was to expose you to some stimuli and record your response, but
now I have two subjects and I think I just realized it. Stand up
please."


In a total trance I stood up. "Take off your robe." It was a suggestion
instead of a command, but I followed it as if it were. I chucked the robe
on the chair behind me, and presented myself to him, a bright white
T-shirt and recently too tight white y-fronts.


I looked down and realized why my underwear felt so tight, my penis was
very erect. I looked at dad his eyes shone with pride and admiration
and... something else.


Dad stepped to me and stood close, I could smell his soap and tobacco,
his nervous sweat and cologne. He untucked his shirt and raised it over
his head. My heart skipped. He was darkly hairy on his chest and slightly
pooched belly down to his boxers. He was surprisingly tan eventuating the
glossy black hair on his torso.


He reached for me tugging at the lower hem of my own T-shirt, lightly
tugging it over my head. My pale pink skin smooth with light tufts of new
hair under my arms.


"You are beautiful," he warmly stated. "There are things books can't
teach you, it seems." He flatly stated, looking me up and down. He
kissed me softly on my auburn hair as he stood and stepped back. He
lowered his boxers, not taking his eyes off my face.


My expression must have read hungry as his penis slowly came into full
view. He wasn't erect, and yet the length of him must have nearly
reached outside of his boxer leg. He did that thing all guys do upon
getting naked, he adjusted his groin before letting it settle naturally.
He let me look, no, his body language encouraged me to look. His penis
was flaccid but lengthy, his pubic hair untamed and thick, his penis
tried to hide his testicles but they hung low and pendulous as if knowing
how hot my dad was.


I was too stunned to look away, but he turned and placed his boxers on
the desk with the rest of his clothes showing me his backside, nicely
shaped and the only word that fit, furry. He took his time arranging his
clothes, even bending over the table giving me a look at the hidden part
of his bottom. I was smitten.


He turned to me, stepped over and just like with the T-shirt, grabbed the
waistband of my underwear and carefully pulled them down, avoiding
catching my impossibly hard member on the material.


He again squatted and knelt down, opening his arms out to me. I flew into
his arms, throwing mine around his neck fighting tears that were suddenly
in my eyes. My dad was hugging me.


His hands held me caressing my back and my bottom holding my head into
the crook of his neck as he kissed my head over and over. He stood and
held me to him. I felt my penis pressed into his furry stomach, his hand
holding, cupping me by my bottom as his other hand held my head to his.


I felt his penis growing as it slowly massaged the inside of my thigh on
its ascension. I met his mouth with mine as we kissed as best I could.
"Thank you daddy," I nearly cried tears of joy.


"Oh, my boy, in what I now see as the search for who I really am, you
were the one who found me." He huffed between our increasingly lusty
kisses.


He turned us and sat me on his desk, the cool polished wood felt cool on
my too hot behind. He gently pushed me back until I was laying flat on
the desk, legs draped on his hips. I held him still to me, arms entwined
around his neck, lips searching him out, desperate to continue their
education. I felt my penis being dragged over his belly causing me to
catch my breath, but between my legs a new sensation dads enormous penis
prodding the cleft of my behind. The sensation felt amazing, though it
hadn't occurred to me where it might go. It felt wet and hot massaging
my little hole. I felt dirty and yet wanted more, penises were for peeing
and butts for... the incessant knocking drove the thought from my head.


His hands found my legs and he laced them over his back spreading my
bottom even further, the head of his penis coating my anus with what I
didn't yet know, but it felt nice and slick as he plied its strength
against my opening.


"I'm glad I have you with me, experiencing this with me for the first
time. I wish my father had taken me like this."


I hadn't known I longed for my father like this until today, but I
couldn't feel bad.y for my father yet, I was too engrossed in the way he
was making me feel.


My father's penis circled my little hole, slashing across it, pressing
into it lightly and suddenly he backed off. He stood pulling away from
me. I saw his penis erect as I raised myself on my elbows to enquire at
the sudden halt. He stood there panting, his penis drooling some silvery
clear liquid, I knew instinctively wasn't urine.


"I need you to know you can stop at any time and say no."


I was curious as to why both he and mom had said the same thing, "Why
would I want to stop? This feels amazing, is this sex?"


"That or heaven," he chuckled.


Needing to breathe for a second, I stated, "Your penis is really big."


He grasped his dripping member, "I can't lie, it's well above average,
though size is no guarantee of skill." He instructed.


"Is this what you wanted to study?" I was catching my breath.


"In a very roundabout way, yes, I wanted to study the advent of
homosexuality in the human male," I hadn't heard the term, "men liking
men?" He offered.


"Oh queers." I said suddenly, painfully realizing what was going on.


"That's one word, but it's a mean word and is meant to demean a valid
form of sexual attraction." He chided me. "Since recorded history men
have loved and had sex with other men, in some societies, Greek for
instance, it was a common practice for men to take boys as lovers of
sorts. Some religions teach that it is wrong, but homosexuality existed
before their liturgical laws were manufactured."


He went and sat on his thinking chair and beckoned me to join him. I
hopped off the desk slowly letting what he told me and what I knew or
thought I knew settle. I climbed on his lap, he again held me by my
bottom as I snuggled up to him in need of comfort. He stroked my arm
while he let me think.


"Am I a homosexual?" I asked tremendously.


"I don't know the answer to that, and am coming to understand through
practical application that I may not understand as much as I thought I
had. Let me explain. I was sure sexuality was a fixed thing or had
convinced myself it was, but I'm obviously wrong, I find in me an
unresolved desire for my father and a burgeoning desire for you." He
said squeezing my bottom. "I kept myself so closed off and clinical I
hadn't examined myself and the suddenly complicated mess inside me. Am I
homosexual? Maybe, I don't yet know, but I know for certain that I love
you, and have sublimated that love for so long I didn't recognize it
until it stood before me waving a pink flag in front of my nose." He
touched my softened penis to emphasize his point. "And I'm willing to
bet you hadn't thought of me that way until you stood with me in this
very room." He held me gently letting it all sink in.


I let my hand find its way to his face, it traced his handsome features,
my thumb tracing his lower lip I had recently been kissing, and I felt my
lower bits warm again. I leaned in and kissed his perfect mouth,  "You
wouldn't lose that bet." I held his head to mine as we kissed gently
and let it naturally grow more intent.


I moved his hand from my head unto my crotch and bade him with a small
press, explore. I let my hand explore his chest, his nipples almost
hidden in hair elicited a jolt and moan from him. His stomach made him
push his groin toward my hand impatient for its visitation.


For his part his fingers swirled the space between my foreskin and penis,
sending signals that made my back arch in a trust upward. His other hand
parted my cheeks and lightly strummed my hole like a guitar causing me to
suck the air from his lungs.


I found his turgid member twitching anxiously for my touch, wet with
anticipation. I tried his trick of spinning a finger round his penis
inside his foreskin, the slickness of the liquid and the pulsing of his
heart beat, beating through his pole caused me to slip out eliciting
quick grunts from my daddy.


Daddy made me release him as he lifted my hips and bent to plant a kiss
on my erratically metronoming twig. He licked the tip and with his lips
peeled back my foreskin as I felt the wet heat of his mouth's aching
slowness engulf my penis. I felt his lips bump over the ridge of the head
frequently as he tormented my newly exposed and too sensitive penis over
and over, causing me ecstatic misery. He granted mercy as his lips pulled
my foreskin over my sensitive glans and slowly encased my whole penis in
his mouth until I felt myself ticking the back of his throat. He held me
there alternating between lightly sucking and wickedly nibbling my
erection. He deftly fingered my scrotum, giving each testicle attention
as he massaged or pulled the skin sending new and delicious sensations
through my core. His fingers continually strumming my quivering hole.


I pulled back, feeling too sensitive and fighting a sudden need to pee. I
extracted myself from his grasp and stood before him, gasping and
panting.


He lightly stroked his large penis smiling at me. I stepped between his
spread legs and knelt. I smelled the strong scents as they fought for my
attention while they made me reel with their heady combination. His clean
soapy smell, the talc he must have used, the cologne mingled with his
pheromones, and the dark musk emminsting from between his legs. I stared
at the flesh before me, slowly being stroked up and down by his beautiful
hand. His foreskin pulled down tight; his scrotum being slightly squashed
by his hand. A drop of silvery liquid perched momentarily at the tip of
his penis on my fathers upstroke before sliding down onto his fist.


I leaned in when on his next downstroke and the head of his penis was
liberated from his foreskin. I experimentally licked the slickened head
of his penis, it tasted salty and a bit sweet. I quickly sucked in the
knob of his member and swirled my tongue around it, as his upstroke
deposited more of the intriguing fluid on my tongue.


I savored the taste letting it suffuse the whole of my taste buds. My
small hand sought for and found his loose scrotum carefully feeling and
lightly tugging the firm globes inside, pulling a deep moan from my
father. I let my lips feel the corona of his penis stretch them and
collapse as his body shuddered from the attention. Too enthusiastic, I
felt myself gag when I tried to take as much of him in my mouth as
possible.


"Easy, my boy, you don't need to swallow it in one go." He lightly
teased.


I found a rhythm with his fist, going down on his downstroke and tasting
him swirling my tongue, feeling every crevice and bump, memorizing him.


I looked into his eyes from my position, they told a tale of love and
lust, devotion and desire. My heart swelled. I slipped my free hand under
him, seeking the dark musky scent from under him. He lifted up slightly
and pressed his hips forward spreading his legs further.


I felt his furry trench, warm furry and damp from sweat. I sought the
entrance he had found in me that made me vibrate. Blindly my fingers
crawled in his hidden depths till I found his sensitive wrinkle. My
fingers traced the shape trying to put a picture in my mind. Folded soft
skin, dewy and tight. I withdrew my fingers after feeling his hole and
mapping its hills and valleys. I brought my finger to my nostril. I could
feel my pupils dilate, my whole being relaxed and yet convulsed with his
concentrated scent. I became wild with lust and wanted more, but daddy
had other plans.


He deftly hauled me into the air and swapped places.


"This chair is special, as are all the artifacts around the room." I
looked around and for the first time, saw little displays and items in
cloches, some I deniable and others friend and arcane. "This is a sex
chair from the Elizabethan age." He lifted my legs over the arms and
they were prevented from moving forward by the outwardly curved arms. The
back of the chair he sharply pulled and it lay slightly back, with my
legs positioned just so, my bottom was exposed and open. "The seat can
be removed or positioned at an angle, the back laid flat and arms moved
as well, this chair is rare and a thing of beauty, and for the first time
in my position, it will be used for its intended purpose." An unseen
lever tiled back the seat and my hips rotated my bottom even farther
forward.


Dad knelt in front of me and placed a relatively chaste kiss on the tip
of my penis. His goal, however briefly, was to taste my testicles suck
them in and massage them with his tongue. I felt his fingers return to my
exposed anus. Lightly rubbing my opening, testing its resistance. Letting
my testes go I felt his warm breath on my bottom, he buried his nose in
my most hidden place inhaling my essence.


His nose teased my back passage before prodding my scrotum and I felt his
warm velvet tongue on my hole. It circled my muscle, driving spirals down
to my opening. His one hand softly tenderly squeezing my bottom and his
other gently running through the reddish blonde thatch on my pubis, his
thumb smoothing the silky new hair. His skilled tongue sought entrance
into me, testing, tasting, teasing me and stealing my every breath. His
finger replaced his tongue and they alternated their assault till I felt
my first gate give way, my anal lips opening and inviting his finger in.
He explored the first gate with finger and tongue throwing a lavish party
to the beat of his lusty grunts and moans. He nibbled my anus bringing a
desperate keen to my nearly wailing pleas of desire.


His finger got greedy though and I felt it try to breach my second gate.
The burning fire I felt brought me down from the edge. I looked down at
him ruefully and would have closed my legs had the arms of the chair not
been holding me so adroitly.


Dad took a different approach and let his beautiful mouth find my
suddenly flaccid penis. He lovingly massaged my soft flesh applying
suction and saliva. His thoughtful first aid brought my offended phallus
back from the grave. I began to want to thrust into his mouth but I was
already extended as far as was comfortable by the chair.


Satisfied with my revivified boyhood, he let one hand or just his thumb
really rub his spit into the underside of my glans, simultaneously
bringing jolts of pure joy and shocks of near torment to my head and
frenulum. His mouth and other hand returned to the assault on my second
ring of muscles inside my bottom.


Minutes seeming hours passed from his delicious torture when tired from
its fight, my second gate lost its fight. I felt every knuckle as it
passed both gates, my muscles holding and caressing each bump on his
digit.


He returned his mouth to my youthful rod as in unison they developed a
rhythm seemingly designed to drive me mad. My every breath became quicker
and less efficient, I felt myself floating, falling toes curling hands
pulling at his hair, trying to force away, or was it to draw him nearer.
Just as I was about to explode my body seized and I felt him prod
something inside of me that sent liquid light throughout my body. I
tensed and convulsed, my body shaking and quaking in the heaven and hell
that were his finger and mouth. I screamed out, "Oh god, DADDDDY!"
Pushing back on his finger and pulling his head deep into my crotch. My
penis twitched and twitched, I felt something, pee...? being shot into
his quickly swallowing throat. Unable to move anything but my arms, toes,
and head they each tried to find the closest thing and latch onto it for
dear life.


I rode the torrent of emotions, sensations and muscle contractions all
new and bewildering, until all too quickly, I was left with a rapidly
dulling glow. I missed it immediately wondering why something so
wonderful would ever end and knew deep inside that I would be chasing
that feeling the rest of my life.


Daddy withdrew from my lower half and lay over me cuddling me, stroking
me, letting my mind return from whatever plane I had reached. Slowly my
spirit returned to my body and my arms held him, in gratitude, pure bliss
and a newly found loving desire.


That was the first day of the rest of our lives. He wrote his paper,
obviously changing the names. Our experiences literally stained the
produced study with traces of our love our bodies left.


Mom never asked about my experiences. I found out that my father and
mother used their sexual life to fuel his studies as well. She likely
knew what took place, but since it brought my father out of his self
imposed scholarly detachment, and brought us so close together, I doubt
she cared.


Incidentally, I turned out to be a homosexual, dad was too but he also
loved mom. The basis of our love was peer reviewed and published.
Homosexuality in Human Males: Nature and Nurture.