Date: Sun, 25 May 2008 13:28:38 -0700 (PDT)
From: adm2780 <adm2780@yahoo.com>
Subject: Second Time Around Chapter Ten

All rights reserved.  Other than downloading one copy for personal
enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted by any
means, except for reviews, without the written permission of the author.
As in real life, the sexual themes unfold gradually and are kept to a
realistic level.  If you are looking for sex on every page, then this is
not the story for you.  Comments on the story are appreciated and may be
addressed to the author, Dwight Wilson, at adm2780@yahoo.com

This story contains descriptions of consensual sexual contact between
males, adult and minor.  As such it is homoerotic, designed for the
entertainment of mature adults.  If you are not of legal age to read such
material, or if the subject matter would create irresolvable personal moral
dilemmas, please exit now.

NOTE: Special thanks to Matthew for his time and efforts proof reading and
editing the chapters.  Want to read a couple of good stories?  Try "Never
Take Love For Granted" or "One Gift To Give".  They are both excellent.


Chapter Ten:  Second Time Around


When I woke on Saturday morning I felt both worn out and like the world was
a bowl of cherries just waiting for me.  The boys were no longer little,
which meant they were no longer light weight.  With one on either side,
draped half way over my body, I didn't change positions much.  I did
remember getting kicked or kneed more than once by each of them.  At least
they didn't have those sharp elbows and knees like when they were little
guys.

Wiggling my way out of the sandwich, I headed for the kitchen and coffee,
sometimes known around my house as starter fluid.  There's something very
special about the aroma of fresh brewed coffee in the morning.  While it
brewed, I pulled out some bacon and started breakfast.  My habit was to
cook the bacon and then hide it before the food vacuums walked in and
inhaled all of it.  I'd prepare the rest of breakfast when there were warm
bodies to consume it.

Standing at the patio door I enjoyed the serenity of a light blanket of
snow covering the ground.  I'm not sure why, but I decided to open the door
and enjoy the fresh air.  It wasn't a big deal except for the fact that I
was still naked; an unusual state of dress for me while cooking.  Stepping
out onto the deck, the chill from the snow sent a wake up call through my
body.  I was surprised that the air didn't feel colder than it did.  I just
stood there, admiring nature and enjoying my coffee when I heard the
younger son.

"Nice sway you got goin' there, Dad."  He startled me and also had me a bit
confused.  Then I realized what he meant and had to grin.

"Hey, kiddo.  You ready for some breakfast?"

"Always." Was his simple and honest reply.  "Dad, I thought Mikey was the
only one that stood around naked and liked ta feel his package sway from
side ta side."

"Frank, are you going to stand there and tell me that you have never stood
with your feet apart and made your package sway and enjoyed it?"

"We were talkin' 'bout Mikey, how'd I get into this?"

"Baloney, kiddo.  Don't try the cutesy stuff with the old man.  You're just
as guilty as anyone else."

"Guilty?  Guilty of what?"  Thus entered the older son; dripping from the
shower and, naturally, au natural.  "I'm hungry.  What's for breakfast?"
That kid had a three track mind -- food, sex and food; and not
necessarily in that order.

"Breakfast today shall consist of bacon, eggs, orange juice, and, I thought
as a change of pace, hot biscuits slathered with melted butter and some of
that home-made strawberry jam one of the ladies at the office gave me."

"Great, I'll get silver and plates." Frank volunteered.

"Dad!!  Do you know how many calories and carbs are in that.  You're gonna
make us all fat!" Mike protested.

"Guess what, kiddo.  Today, I don't care how many calories and carbs are in
that.  Wait till you get to your grandmother's and see what she fixes.  How
about bacon, sausage, fried eggs, grits, biscuits and red-eye gravy?"  Mike
looked at me, put his hands over his heart, and fell to the floor.

"My arteries clogged just hearing about it.  She doesn't really fix that;
does she?"

"Not any more.  She did sometimes for Dad when he was alive.  However, I
can remember my grandmother fixing that breakfast every Saturday morning.
Plus, she had home-made biscuits that were to die for."

"The die part I understand."

We sat at the breakfast bar eating when I had to laugh to myself.  Here I
was sitting stark naked in my kitchen, eating breakfast with both of my
also, stark naked sons.  Many meals I consumed with them naked, but I
always had at least my pajama bottoms on.  I decided it felt good and I
should do it more often.

"Guys, I'm going on line in a few minutes to change your flights.  If I
know your grandmother, she'll be taking you to at least one concert,
shopping, one or more trips to the club and I don't know what else.  How
about pulling out your dress casuals and let's make sure they still fit.
My guess is we have to go shopping today or I have to figure out a way to
keep you two from growing."

"I like shopping better. We get to pick out what we want?"

"Partially.  I want to make sure you have the correct basics and then you
can add your individual tastes.  That work?"

"Guess so.  Wouldn't do any good to argue anyway, right?"  I nodded.  "When
are we going?"

"This week's the last week before the holidays, right?  Do either of you
have any tests scheduled."

"Not me," Frank answered.

"Me neither, I'm done till next year."  I knew he meant calendar year and
ignored the trap. The phone rang.  Guess who.

Mike answered the phone and the conversation was too cryptic on our end to
decipher very much; mostly because Mike never stopped pushing food in his
mouth.  I was able to understand when Mike told him we were probably going
shopping later this morning.

"That was Sean.  He's comin' over.  I told him we were going shopping and
he wanted to know if he could come along 'cause he had to get some things.
I told him it was okay."  He never missed a beat in moving the fork from
plate to mouth.  Teenagers.

"Michael, did you make it clear to him that we are not going Christmas
shopping?  We are going clothes shopping?"

"I know.  He's gotta get some clothes for when he has ta go to his dad's
before Christmas.  He doesn't like for his mom to go with him. Says she
still likes to pull the seat of his pants and the crotch ta make sure they
fit right.  He's too old for that, Dad."

I excused myself before the company arrived to shave, shower and dress.  I
also wanted to change the boy's flights before we went out.  It was going
to cost me, but if Mother wanted to see them, then that's what would
happen.  When I came out to meet the boys I wasn't the least bit surprised
to find Frank ready to go, Sean ready to go, and Michael sitting on the
sofa without a stitch on.

"Michael, son, you need to dress.  You might find it a bit chilly going out
without clothes."

"Why?  People can see my body and admire me."  He grinned like a little
idiot.  I just gave him what the boys called 'the look'.  "Okay, I'm
hurryin'; I'm hurryin'."  Sean's face turned red he laughed so hard.

                                           * * * *

Want a great experience?  Try shopping for clothes with three teenage boys.
Particularly when at least two of the three are in age regression mode.
It's really fun when the age regression seems to move from one to the
other.

Frank had to have both pants and a blazer.  We settled on the traditional
tan with blue blazer and brown loafers.  The kids kept naming some kind of
shoe that was supposed to be the rage.  I looked at them and they looked
like plain old brown loafers to me.  Frank matched a nice blue shirt to his
outfit that I thought really brought out the color in his eyes. Of course,
there's no way I was going to say that to him.

Mike got upset when I suggested the same outfit for him.  God!  You would
have thought I had suggested the ultimate sin.  Mike settled on black
slacks with a brown crushed velour jacket.  Sean gave him a wolf whistle
and half the people near us turned to look.  Mike wanted to crawl in a hole
while the rest of us laughed.  For shoes he settled on oxblood loafers with
a tassel.  His shirt was a pale yellow which he claimed would make his hair
stand out.  And people thought girls could be vain?  I added two more
shirts to each boy's stack.

Sean was real good with his clothes.  He did tell me his mom had suggested
that he ask me about going shopping for clothes.  His argument to her was
since I had two boys that I would know more about what to buy and how they
should fit.  The real reason, of course, was that he wouldn't be
embarrassed to ask me certain questions, such as whether or not the seam
was creeping up the crack of his butt and defining that part of his anatomy
for others to admire.  I couldn't resist pulling at the seat of the pants,
just like he complained about his mother doing.  When I reached for the
crotch, he jumped back, turned, and ran back to the dressing room laughing.
Sean went with the classic look of gray slacks with a navy blue blazer.  He
liked both the open collar look and turtle necks.  He had a little money
left over and added a gold chain necklace to his outfits.

These kids were wearing me out.  All three let it be known they were past
due for some nutrition, so we hit the food court.  Michael wanted to
protest, as usual, so the other two walked off and left him; they were
bound and determined to eat.  I followed the majority.  During lunch, the
boys all carried on about their clothes and where they would wear them.
Frank and Mike knew they would need them when they visited their
grandmother.  It was a forgone conclusion that she would have them at the
club on more than one occasion.  When Mike made a comment about not caring
to go to the club that much, I let him know the club visits were only
partially for them; they were mainly for Mother.  Every grandmother wants
to show off their grandchildren; it was considered a right of passage.
When we left the mall, the boys noticed right away that we were not headed
in the right direction to be going home.

"Dad, I don't think this is the way home," Frank observed.

"It's not.  We have one more stop to make before heading home.  It's a
surprise."

'What kinda surprise?" Michael asked in that innocent tone he liked to use
to pry information out of me.

"Mikey, haven't you figured it out yet?" Frank interjected.  'When Dad says
it's a surprise, that means it's either something we're gonna love and he
wants to see our expressions when he gives it to us; or, it's something he
thinks we won't like and he doesn't want to argue.  He'll just get us there
and tell us to stop gripin'.  Which one is it, Dad?"

"It could be a little bit of both," I told them.

"That means it's the one he thinks we won't like," Frank interpreted.  Sean
laughed at Mike's expression and Frank's smart-ass tone.

"What are you laughin' at?" I asked Sean, "You're in this, too."  Now it
was time for the other two to laugh.

The three boys moaned simultaneously when I pulled into the photographer's
parking lot.

                                           * * * *

Jack Reynolds was a young professional photographer who had been turned
down by almost every bank in town.  He wanted to open his own shop, but he
needed help.  Anyone looking strictly at his financials would turn him
down.  Jack wasn't what you would call your ordinary wanna-be.  He was
good, and he not only knew it, he believed it.  One day, after wracking my
brain to the point of exhaustion trying to figure out what to get Mother
for Christmas, I called Jack and told him what I wanted.  I also told him
about some other pictures I wanted for the family album.  He had always
told me anytime he could do something special, just mention it and it was
done.  He was a man of his word.

I was surprised, when I told the boys to change into one of their new
outfits, that they didn't bitch, moan and groan.  I must have given them a
questioning look because Frank just looked at me and said, "We know it
wouldn't do any good."  He was right.  When Sean just stood there, I let
him know he wasn't exempt from all this either; get changed.  My boys just
looked at him, pointed and laughed.  Welcome to the family.

Jack posed the boys for singles, a double with my boys, the three of us,
and the three boys.  He took several shots so we could look later and
choose the best.  The boys wore the new clothes and came out of the
changing room beaming like they thought they had really arrived.  I let
Sean know he could have his picture framed and give it to his mother and
father for Christmas.  He looked a little hesitant, particularly when I
mentioned his father, but quickly let it slide.  After the first series of
shots was complete I told the boys to head back to the changing room and
take their clothes off.  Frank was the first to catch the little blip.

"Whoa!  Wait a minute!  Dad, you said to take off our clothes.  You didn't
say anything about putting our other clothes back on.  Are you thinkin'
what I'm afraid you might be thinkin'?"

"Jack, do have that photo album we've been putting together of the boys?"

Jack pulled out the album of pictures that Kathy and I had taken of the
boys and family over the years.  There were the usual 'baby on the fur rug'
and 'kids in the tub' pictures.  We also had pictures of them standing at
the front window looking outside; the picture showed two
hardly-more-than-toddler little butts.  There were pictures of them running
around the yard au natural and sun-bathing the same way.  Of course, there
were many pictures of the boys with us outside, in the tub, in the bed;
typical family type stuff.  There were also many pictures of the boys
dressed.

"Where'd you get these?  We had'n' seen these before," Mike observed.

"A lot of them were undeveloped film.  Some were pictures your mother and I
had that we kept put away.  Now that you're both almost grown, I wanted to
get a few more to finish out the album.  Don''t worry, there won't be any
frontals, at least not intentionally."

"Why not?" Mike surprised us. "Little Mikey's not embarrassed.  If you want
pictures of us naked; no problemo."  Sean laughed while Michael headed to
the dressing room, stripping on the way.

"Sean, I don't know why you're laughing.  Jack has release papers on you,
too.  If I'm going to get those two, I might as well add in my third son."
Sean seemed to look a little pale for some reason.  I also saw him swell
when I referred to him as my third son.

The boys came out in birthday suits, bouncing like they always did at home.
Michael was worried whether he had messed up his hair taking off his
t-shirt.  I had already cautioned Jack that Mike would be the hardest to
get to relax.  That kid just had to inhale and flex those muscles.  He was
about as relaxed and flexible as a slab of concrete.

Jack was truly the professional. He started the boys with a few sitting
shots and took their pictures from the waist up only.  He had them sit on
the floor, Indian style with their hands crossed in the center, and shot a
couple, and then began giving them props.  Frank and Sean had a great time
with the oversized bear and the lion.  Jack had them recline and used some
sheer fabric to cover the personal parts.  He showed them how to crouch and
snarl like a cat, or look up with an erotic glare.  He took some great
shots of Sean giving a seductive look over his shoulder.  Those two were
having a great time.  They even went with the full embrace and didn't mind
showing an erection.

Michael?  He was a different story.  Mr. Muscles had to do a posing routine
that he saw Mr. Somebody-or-other do in a contest.  Admittedly, Michael had
quite the bod for a kid his age.  He was serious about his workouts;
serious to the point of being an absolute pain in the butt sometimes.
Frank and Sean kept picking at him. Sometimes Mike would get a little
pissed, other times he laughed. Truth of the matter was that he enjoyed the
attention and all three of them were natural exhibitionists. Michael didn't
want to play around with the other two.  My personal thought was that he
was afraid of getting an erection.

Michael did get cute with his pictures.  He was posing with the bear and
held it like he was trying to penetrate it's bottom.  A couple of times he
stood with a full frontal shot and flexed his pecs so they alternated
bouncing up and down.  I threatened to put tassels on his nipples.  Being
the exhibitionist, he made sure Little Mikey got his picture taken on
several occasions.  I told Jack not to throw those out, but tell Mike that
he did.  I was sure I could find a good use for them at some point in the
future.  When he started shifting his weight from one foot to the other, so
Little Mikey would swing, I threatened to spank Little Mikey and then Big
Mikey.  Kids!

                                           * * * *

It felt good to get home and just sit in the hot tub.  We stopped on the
way home for supper.  I thought everyone was a little tired after three
hours plus at the photography studio.  It was hard to believe we were there
that long.  The boys headed to their room, all three of them, with new
clothes in hand, still teasing one another about the pictures.  Sean was
really catching it with Mike and Frank threatening to send copies to his
mom or post them on the school internet site.  He figured they wouldn't do
it, but he really wanted some assurance after they kept picking on him.  I
promised him that if they posted his on the school internet site, I'd have
theirs posted on a billboard in front of the school.  All three knew
better.

This close to Christmas, the weather was a little more than just nippy.  We
had had a little snow; just enough to cover the ground and look nice in
full moonlight.  When I turned the hot tub on, it didn't take long for the
water to heat up.  Treating myself to an ice cold beer, I stripped down,
turned on some soft jazz and settled in for a relaxing soak.  It was nice
for the few minutes that I had alone.

"Hey, Dad.  Can I get in too?"  It was nice of Mike to ask while he climbed
into the tub.

"I thought you were with the other boys doin' whatever it is you do."

"I was . .but . . .well, I couldn't wait like they wanted to."

"Wait?  Do I want to ask what you were waiting for?"

"Pro'bly not.  Those last pictures you had that photographer do, the ones
where we were naked and foolin' around with the stuffed animals and all,
that got us kinda horny.  When we got back they wanted to look at some
stuff and then play.  I needed ta go ahead and take care of business.
They're still lookin' at pictures . . .I guess."

"You're right.  I probably didn't want to ask that question."

I had made myself comfortable sitting in the corner of the tub with jets
spewing warm water at me from three directions.  Actually, I sat sideways
on the seat, leaning my back against one side with my right foot propped on
the seat and my left foot on the bottom of the tub.  I found a jet in the
floor that spewed against the arch of my foot and it really felt nice;
almost as nice as the jets hitting the small of my back.  For some reason,
my son felt it necessary to stretch out next to me and lean against me.  He
didn't wait to see how I would react, but simply took my arm and wrapped it
over his shoulder and across his chest.  Some assumptions were part of the
privileges of being the kid.  I hooked my right leg over him to prevent him
falling off the bench.

We sat quietly in the tub.  I held my son and rubbed my hand up and down
his chest or arm periodically.  I knew he was being quiet, too quiet for
him.  Experience had taught me to be patient.  When Mike was ready, he
would let me know what was on his mind.  He took a swallow of my beer to
steel himself.

"Dad, it just it'n fair."  I wondered if he was going to make me guess at
what wasn't fair.

"I understand some of the rules and laws they have; and, I understand that
when people get married they should just be with one another.  But, we know
there's kids at school that like ta fool around and nobody says anything."

"My guess is that just the kids don't say anything.  I bet if their parents
knew they were fooling around, they'd have plenty to say."

"If parents today think their kids are still totally innocent after eight
grade, they're just not with it.  I mean, you knew me and Frank liked ta
play some even if we just rubbed or jacked off some."  I just knew that it
wouldn't bother me a bit if I had to wait to find out where we were going
with this.

"Dad, we even know of some guys at school that like ta fool around with
each other.  I mean, a lot of the guys like ta play in the shower, after
gym class and all.  There's been more than one circle jerk party in the
shower and we guessed the coaches knew and just ignored it.  Some of the
guys even grab another guy's dick and pull on it.  Everybody just laughs."

"Before this gets too deep, would you like to let me know where you're
headed with this?"  I had a good idea, but wanted him to say something.  I
also realized then that I was playing with one of his nipples.  He arched
his back and inhaled sharply when I pinched his nipple pretty hard and then
flicked a finger over the tip.

"Daa-aad," he whined and I laughed to myself.  "How come it's okay for some
people to show they care about each other but it's not okay for others?
Did you know there's a report that says over eighty percent of boys dream
about having sex with their dads?  It also said almost that many dads
admitted to thinkin' 'bout havin' sex with their sons."

"Did the report offer an explanation as to why the dads and sons dream like
that?"

"It was more like they kinda guessed at some reasons.  They said some boys
miss the personal affection their dads gave 'em before they entered
puberty.  Another guess was that the kid felt more comfortable with their
dad.  If they messed up they knew their dad wouldn't laugh at 'em."

"And what's your thinking on the matter?"

"I think you need to teach us some stuff so we don't have ta be scared or
worried 'bout bein' laughed at if we want ta have sex with somebody.  You
said you'd think about it."

"There's something I want to be sure you understand, son.  I'm your dad,
your mentor, your teacher, your friend for life.  However, I can't be your
lover in the way that your talking about.  You need to find someone one day
that is extra special to you, someone you can't live without.  When you do
that, you will find your lover."

"Dad, we understand that.  In the meantime though, since you're our dad,
mentor and teacher, shouldn't you teach us the proper way to treat that
special person?"

"Kiddo, you are a conniver!  Did I ever tell you that?"

"Yes, sir, a few times."  I rubbed my hand up and down his front and found
Little Mikey, standing tall.

"C'mon, kiddo, we've been in here way longer than we should.  We stay any
longer we may not be able to stand up."

"Uuuhhh, Dad?  I think part of me is already standin'."

"I won't ask which part.  Just get out of my lap so I can get up." He
wiggled his butt and giggled.

"I think part of you is already standin' too."  That remark earned him a
pop on the butt; even if he was right.  I knew that the truth was that I
would have loved to take this kid to bed and show him how he could really
get pleasure from his body.  I wanted to hear him whimper and see him
squirm from the good feelings I could teach him.  What frightened me was
the fact that I wanted him to do the same to me.  My stomach tightened at
the thought and I had to move past him before I reached for him.

Turning on the shower in my bathroom to rinse off the hot tub chemicals, I
was aware that Michael had followed me.  He wanted to get in the shower
with me and I didn't do anything to stop him.  He could be a complete pain
in the ass sometimes, but he was my pain in the ass.  He was a beautiful
boy who just wanted to be loved.

He stepped in, right behind me, and didn't waste any time backing up to me.
I wrapped my arms around him and rubbed the warm water all over his torso.
I never ceased to be amazed at how soft and silky a teenagers skin felt.
This teen had the ripples and hard muscle under that silky-soft skin
defined just enough to run my fingers through the ridges.  He leaned his
head back on my shoulder and pushed his butt into me.  My erection rubbed
up and down the lower part of his crack.  He was deliberately teasing me.

"Lesson number one," I whispered in his ear.

I nibbled on the side of his neck.  I didn't suck on it and try to create a
mark; that wouldn't be fair knowing how Sean and Frank would tease him.  As
soon as I started, he began to whimper and inhale more than he exhaled.
Slowly, I worked my way up the side of his neck, simultaneously playing
with both nipples.  I tweaked and teased; he continued to whimper.  When I
reached his ear, I nibbled his ear and then stuck my tongue in his ear;
simultaneously, I pinched his nipples and rolled them between thumb and
forefinger.

"Ooooooohhhhh shiiiiiit! . . .mmmmppphhhh
. . . .uuunnnngggghhh. . .uuunnnngghh."

He whined and whimpered; he sounded almost like his mother when I did that
same little trick on her.  He stood on his tip toes and reached back to
hold on to me while he danced from one foot to the other.  With his
reaction, I wondered if he knew as much as I had originally given him
credit for.  I backed up and turned him around.  Little Mikey was at full
attention.  Michael looked up at me.  His eyes looked like a little lost
puppy just begging to be held and loved.  I brought him into my arms and
rubbed down his back as I gently nibbled the other side of his neck.
Again, he whimpered and raised himself up on his tip toes.  I don't think
he did know as much as I originally thought.  I slid my hand around his
body and found Little Mikey.  He shifted his hips back to give me access.

"Lesson number two.  There's no rule that limits the amount of time you can
spend washing any particular part of your body."  Little Mikey received a
thorough cleaning.

                                           * * * *

We lay in bed.  My son lay half-way on top of me with his head on my
shoulder.  My left arm wrapped over his shoulder and down his back I gently
rubbed his back and ran my fingers through his still wet hair.

"Michael, I need to ask you something and I need you to trust me enough to
tell me the whole truth."  He didn't reply, but waited.  "I know you have
experimented with Frank and even with Sean and Eric.  You've been open
enough to tell me you and Frank belly- rubbed and jacked off; I know you've
even tried some oral sex.  Have you ever been with someone and just
cuddled; you know, just made out without necessarily having sex?"

"No sir.  I've done like you said.  Me and Frank and Sean have done a daisy
chain after we read about it in a story and I've eaten some cum, but that's
about it.  There was a couple times somebody wanted ta cuddle like that but
I was scared to.  I didn't know what ta do and I was afraid I'd make myself
look stupid.  That's why I wanted you to teach me."

I could feel him shaking and hear the strain in his voice.  He sounded
almost as though he was ashamed.  He was just about as naïve as I was at
his age.  I had vowed that my sons would not have to endure what I went
through.  I wanted them to grow strong and secure with themselves and who
they were.  I knew what needed to be done.  What about his brother?  Was he
just as naïve?

Nothing more was said that night.  I hugged him close and kissed him on top
of the head.  He lay where he was and went to sleep.  To me, this was the
best part of cuddling.

End Chapter Ten

To Be Continued

Comments Welcome: contact Dwight Wilson at adm2780@yahoo.com