Date: Thu, 20 Jul 2000 21:31:00 EDT From: THX Subject: Vacation in Vermont with Dad (Revised) Originally written 7 July 1998; revised July 10, 2000. This is an absolutely true story I wrote two years ago. I have updated the story and corrected grammatical errors. Minors should not read this story. Vacation in Vermont with Dad CHILDHOOD When I was in 1st grade, my dad signed us up for Indian Guides. It was sort of like Boy Scouts, without the quasi-military overtones. We were in the Shoshone tribe, with a bunch of other boys from my school and their fathers. We would all meet at a tribe member's house once every other week, and go camping twice a year. The highlight for me was after camping: Dad & I would go home & shower together. This was the first time I remember seeing an adult's penis. Most of the time, he faced away from me, and I had not yet come to appreciate a beautiful ass. But, now and then I would catch a glimpse of his hairy uncircumcised dick. I never saw it with the skin pulled back. But, to this day, I have a strong attraction to uncut guys. We graduated from Indian Guides at the end of 3rd grade. From then until I finished 6th grade, we were in Trail-Blazers. The routine was pretty much the same, except that camping here included horseback riding. I remember my best friend Steve, some other guys & I would get into pissing contests while out hiking, to see who could piss the furthest from the top of a tall cliff. Steve usually won. But I digress, back to the story. ADOLESCENCE When I was 12, my parents divorced. Needless to say, it was very painful for all of us. I began to overeat and I blew up into a very unattractive kid. I was also starting to get pubic hair and I was exploring masturbation, which my buddy Steve had taught me about. One day, I was at my dad's new apartment reading that awful book, Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex* *but were afraid to ask. My dad saw me reading it and asked me if I had any questions about sex. I asked him about sperm, wet dreams, and when he had last had one. He replied, "About a year ago." Then I asked him about penis size, and he told me every guy was different, but that the size of someone's penis was not important. Then, I worked up my courage and asked him about his dick: how big was it when hard? He held up his fingers & indicated about seven inches, "About this big." I was by this time very nervous. I wanted to ask him to take it out and show me, but I chickened out. Immediately following my parents' divorce, my father married his secretary and moved us to California. About two years later, my half-brother was born. Literate and well informed boy that I was, I had read several articles about the pros & cons of circumcision, and had come to the conclusion that it was unnecessary and quite possibly harmful. While visiting my new "baby-bro" in the hospital, I saw his name on a chalkboard of scheduled circumcisions. I told my dad bluntly that he should not be circumcised, and why. My half-brother was not cut. When I was 15, I managed somehow to give my self poison oak, and I got some on my dick. I told my dad about it, & he very calmly said "Let's take a look." By this time, my dick had grown to nearly adult size. In the bathroom, I unzipped my pants & pulled it out. He touched it, looked it over & told me to put some calamine lotion on it. Shortly after that, my dad & I had a very bad falling out and I ran away from home to live with my maternal grandmother. We patched things up eventually, and I came out as being gay to him when I was 20. He was not exactly thrilled to hear this, but was much cooler about it than I had imagined. VERMONT In October 1992, I was 25. By that time, I had gotten into working out and transformed myself from the fat, lonely, depressed kid into a pretty hot guy. I was the spitting image of my father when he was 25. I was working at a piano factory near Boston, Massachusetts. My dad still lived in California, but he was working in Vermont supervising the construction of cellular towers. He came down to visit sometimes and for one month (October) I was laid off from work. So, we decided to spend some time together in Vermont. We looked at a few of his sites, argued about the upcoming election (I was for Clinton, he was reluctantly supporting Bush but did not much care for him, either.) and generally had a great time. He proudly introduced me to all his coworkers. "This is my son. He knows everything about pianos, he plays 'em & builds 'em" He was staying at the Holiday Inn in Burlington. A few days before I arrived in Vermont, he had taken a pretty serious spill at a site. When we were getting ready for bed my first night there, he showed me the large bruise on his ass. For some reason, he disrobed in front of the mirror, so even though his back was toward me, I could see his dick in the reflection. It was the same size as mine! Except that I am cut & he is not. Even our balls looked uncannily alike in the amount of hair on them and the way they hung. I also noticed for the first time what a nice ass he had. The image of my fathers nakedness stayed in my mind for the next several days. After about three days of sharing a hotel room with very little privacy, I was real hot & bothered. (I am used to getting my rocks off at least once a day.) On my third night there, Dad & I were lying on our beds watching TV, and as was his habit, he dozed off around 10pm. There we were, both of us on top of the covers, naked except for our white briefs. I looked over at him in the next bed, and checked out his crotch. I could see the outline of his dick & balls in the front. I was getting hard. I could not hold myself back. Quietly, I took my hard dick out and began stroking it. There I was, masturbating just a few feet away from the man who sired me--a man who could at any second wake up and see his own son jacking off. No words can explain how intensely aroused I was. This was a perfect moment that I wished would never end. I tried to hold back, but I climaxed faster than I intended. Looking at my dad, I blew a huge load all over my chest. After I came, I lay there for a few minutes looking at my dad & myself. I didn't bother to clean myself up, just pulled my briefs back over my dick, pulled up the covers, turned off the TV and light, and hit the hay. The next morning, I awoke with my usual morning hard-on. My dad was in the shower. In a few minutes, he came out in his briefs. I pretended to wake up and got out of bed and went into the bathroom to take a shower. Cleaning the dried cum from my dick and chest, I came up with an idea. I rinsed off, got out of the shower, and worked myself up to a semi hard on, looking in the mirror. Nervous but hiding it, I wrapped a towel around my waist and went out into the room. Dad was seated at the little table next to my bed, working on his expense accounts. My back to him, I dried off my back, lower legs, and feet. Spreading out my legs as I bent forward, I knew he could see my hairy asshole if he was looking. Then I turned toward him. I slowly, openly, unashamedly, toweled off my dick and balls, half-hard and getting harder. Pretending to be absorbed in drying myself, I didn't look up to see if he was watching me, but somehow felt his gaze on my dick. After a couple of minutes, I put on my underwear and took my sweet time adjusting my big, hairy, dad-sized balls and cock. A couple of days later, I was called back to work and Dad drove me home. I was concerned that he might fall asleep driving back to Vermont and said he could spend the night at my place, but he had to be at work the next morning. So, I asked him to call me when he got back so I would know he was OK. We hugged & said good-bye. About four hours later, the phone rang and it was him. He was plainly very tired, bordering on exhaustion. Drifting into sleep, he mumbled about how nice it was to see me, spend time with me, and "see your dick." He was so out of it, I don't think he even realized what he said. I said "Get some sleep, man." "OK, son" "I love you Dad" "I love you too, bye." EPILOGUE The above is the absolute truth. Eight years later, my Dad & I still get along fine, even though we don't see much of each other. (My "baby bro" is now a 6'3" strapping young man. When I recently told him about the event regarding his near brush with circumcision, he spontaneously hugged me, tearfully thanking me for looking out for him.) I wish more had happened between my father and me, that we could have masturbated together, at least. But Dad is now 71 and at this point I doubt anything sexual will happen between us.