Date: Fri, 30 Apr 1999 11:15:18 +0100
From: Storyteller_2@yahoo.com
Subject: Wim & Kris - Life goes on

This is the fourth story in the Wim/Kris series.

May I thank the many readers who have send me messages of encouragement,
your support is greatly appreciated. I do endeavour to answer all mails and
enjoy entering in to discussions with people of all ages, even those who
should not be reading these stories!

In the story that follows all the sexual parts are pure fiction and should
be read as such. It does not mean the author promotes or agrees with sexual
relationships between men and teenage boys.

If you are not of a legal age where you live to read stories of this nature
or are offended by homosexual behaviour, man/teenage boy, teenage
boy/teenage boy, relationships etc. etc then please do not read any
further. If you do then please enjoy the story as it is one of love and
affection but it is not the responsibility of the writer or the posting
authority of any consequences that arise.


                   Wim & Kris - Life goes on.

Part 1

Back Home

So here we were back in the UK at the start of a new era in both our lives.

We arrived home and as the front door closed Wim put his arms round my neck
buried his lips into mine, broke the kiss and said, "I love you Dad."

"I love you too, Son," I replied, holding him tightly to my body.

We stood in the hall in a loving embrace for what seemed thirty seconds
until I realised I needed a cigarette and we had been stood there for a
good ten minutes.

"Come on let's get unpacked and I need a--"

"Cup of tea," he grinned and dashed into the kitchen and put on the kettle.

We unpacked, what bit we had, hand baggage doesn't take a lot of unpacking
and most of it went onto the Ali Baba, so called because it was shaped like
an Urn and made of wicker, and was our wash basket.

Wim poured the tea and we retired to the lounge, Oh doesn't that sound
posh, it meant we grabbed our mugs and went into the living room. I sat in
my favourite leather armchair and Wim climbed on my lap. We turned on the
TV and saw the last bit of the news. As usual all bloody gloom and doom. We
just sat drinking tea and enjoyed being back at home. Wim put his mug on
the smokers stand next to the chair and cuddled up. Within a minute he was
making zzzzz's. I was tired too so I did the usual thing, picked him up
bodily, walked round the house making it secure for the night and carried
him upstairs to bed. He never blinked an eyelid.  He was out for the
count. I laid him on the bed and stripped off to my boxers. I gently
removed all his clothes and folded them neatly on his night stand. I left
his briefs on and took stock of my new Son. He was gorgeous. He had grown
in the last month or so. He was 5'3" when I first met him and I was sure he
had grown a couple of inches. His hair was a bit too long, he needed it
cut, a job for next week but it was still the colour of spun gold. I
couldn't see his eyes but his eyelashes seemed to be inches long, his nose
was still that lovely shape and the curve of his lips made me want to kiss
him. So I did. He still never moved but I did get a little sigh from my
sleeping boy. His legs were smooth and beautifully formed, with a little
freckle on his right knee, swimming had helped as it had done with the rest
of his body. His slim arms ended with hands with long slender fingers which
as I watched flexed, as though looking for something. I climbed in beside
him, pulled the duvet over both of us, turned out the light and those
fingers found what they were looking for, my chest and he turned over into
the Wim position. I joined him in the land of nod.

I slowly came into the land of the living and my right hand searched to the
side. Nothing! Had I been dreaming that I had a new son. My left hand
searched on the bedside table and found a packet of cigs and a lighter.
Pulling myself to a semi sitting position I stuck a cig in my mouth and lit
it. I looked around the bed room. On the chair at the other side of the bed
was a pile of boys clothes, thank God I had not been dreaming. Now where
the hell was he? I looked at my watch to find it was 0830, late for me, I
hoped he was making tea! I closed my eyes and drew deeply on the cig and a
small voice said,

"Good morning, my Dad. Tea?"

I opened my eyes to see a vision of loveliness stood by my side of the bed
with two steaming mugs of tea in his hand. He was still just wearing his
tight white briefs and a smile.

"Good morning, my Son. Can a duck swim?"

I took the mug of tea and he went round the foot of the bed, placed his tea
on his bedside table and climbed into bed with me. He snuggled up and we
both savoured our morning tea.. He slid one hand under the duvet and felt
the top of my boxers.

"Do you know," he said, "last night was the first time since I met you and
started to sleep with you that we didn't sleep together naked?"

"I'm sorry, Sir," I said with a grin, "I will not let it happen again."

"I should think not, mind you we were very tired last night. Do you always
feel tired after an aeroplane flight, I seem to?"

"Well yesterday was a long day, last night in Amsterdam we didn't get a lot
of sleep and an hour or so at 8000' makes you tired."

"We were at 27,000 feet, not 8000 remember I was on the flight deck."

I smiled and then explained to him the mechanics of pressurisation of
passenger carrying aircraft.  When the aircraft is at any height above
8000' the internal pressure is kept at the pressure it would be at
8000'. This way the structure of the fuselage and the amount of oxygen
needed to supplement the air in the cabin is cheaper to produce than
keeping it pressurised at the pressure of sea level. So at 8000' feet there
is a depletion of oxygen levels and that can make you tired.

"Oh I see," he paused and I could see the wheels going round in his
gorgeous little head, "is that why your ears pop because of the pressure
differential?"

"You've got it in one, it is the pressure equalising from behind your ear
drum, high to low that causes them to pop."

"You are a clever old Dad," and he finished his mouthful of tea and threw
his arms round my neck and gave me my morning kiss. I hugged him close and
returned the kiss.

"What are we going to do today?" he asked.

"Well I was checking you over visibly last night as I put you to bed and I
think that I should have a few measurements of my Son and see if he needs
any new clothes. I'm sure you have grown and you will need school clothes
etc, etc.

He gave me one of his impish looks and with a grin on his face he said,

"You will need to use a ruler as well as a tape measure and I would like
the measurement of that part of me taken slack and very hard."

"That might be difficult," I said, because when ever I get hold of it, it
gets hard very quickly."

"I shall have to do the slack measurement then and not think of you doing
the other or I will have difficulty. You couldn't do the slack measurement
now."

He slid his leg over mine and I could feel his rigid boy tool pushing into
my thigh through the cotton of his underpants. He hand slipped down to mine
and he grinned and said, "I wouldn't be able to measure yours slack now
either."

I kissed the top of his head and clipped the cheeks of his bum with my
hand, "Come on time for the 5's, I need a pee."

"Awe just five minutes more, please Dad, pleeease..."

"Sorry Wim, I can't wait five minutes, the combination of you and the mug
of tea has done its work," and I jumped out of bed but not before he had
clamped his legs round my waist and started to shout, "Horsey ,Horsey!"

The boy was getting bigger in all departments and heavier too. It took me
all my time to negotiate the stairs to the downstairs bathroom. By the time
we were downstairs we were semi-hard and we both stood pointing "Percy" at
the porcelain and sighed in relief as our bladders emptied. Have you ever
tried to hug and kiss a nearly fourteen year old boy and have a pee at the
same time without making a mess! Difficult but we proved it possible. The
shower was started and the water came up to temperature. Wim climbed in and
got wet. He handed me the soap and turned his back to me but far enough
away so I had to join him. I know for a fact he did that on purpose.  I
soaped his back and he lent against the tiled wall with his hands flat
against the surface and pushed himself back into me. I let my hands slide
round under his arms and across his chest. His nipples were rock hard. This
was going to be one of those showers. With one hand on his front and the
other on his back I slid them downwards. He moaned his sexy moan and
exhaled his breath saying "Oh Yesss" as I let my fingers encircle his very
hard boyhood.  My other fingers, slippy with the soap suds, slid between
his beautifully shaped buttocks and as I arrived at his sphicter he pushed
backwards forcing me to slip in a couple of fingers. He straightened up and
swivelled his head round and puckered his lips. With water cascading over
his angelic face I just buried my lips on to his. He pulled my fingers out
of him and brought my arm so it was holding his chest. One of his hands
gently wrapped itself round my raging hard-on and guided it between his
buttocks. I felt the end of my penis pushed up against his sphincter and he
moved slowly backwards till I was fully inside of him. He broke the kiss
and said,

"This is only our second time but it is right and I need you and my ESP
tells me you need me."

"You are correct, my love and we promised ourselves we would make love in
the shower."

I slipped my hand off his boyhood and held his hips. His hands went back to
the wall and he started to gyrate. I started with a slow in and out
movement going all the way in and then pulling back so the head of my penis
was just inside him.

He moaned, "Masturbate me, I need to be jerked off."

"No, my love," I replied, "it is your turn when I've finished."

He groaned as I picked up speed and I nibbled the back of his neck. I was
near to climax and I pulled his hips hard into my body, he clamped his anus
and that brought me to the zenith. I drove deep into him and exploded. I
ejaculated at least five times and let my penis slip out. My hands went to
his boyhood and I pulled him round to face me. We embraced and I squeezed
his penis in my hand. I could feel it throbbing to his heart beat as I
could feel his heart pounding against my chest. Still holding his rigid
tool in my hand I changed places with him and I put my hands against the
wall. He didn't need any second bidding and I felt him push fully home and
his hands grabbed my hips.

He gasped, "I'm sorry, Dad, I can't make it last -- I need you so much.  Oh
God I need you like there is no tomorrow."

I could feel his body quiver with desire, he teeth sank into my back. He
thrust deep and fast and his head came up and he sank his boyhood deep
inside me and spasmed. With each spasm he yelled "Oh Yess, Oh Yess" and his
hands gripped my hips and pulled me hard against him. His last thrust was
as deep as he could go and he left it at its fullest extent as he shuddered
to his final climax. He collapsed across my back totally spent. His now
soft penis slipped from me and I turned round and supported him with my
arms under is armpits. His head came up with his eyes closed and he gasped,
"kiss me."

I slipped my hands to his buttocks to support him and mashed my lips to
his. We let the water flow over us and let its cleaning power do its stuff.
After about five minutes we regained some of our composure and I turned off
the water. We grabbed two bath sheets and dried each other with the
tenderness that only lovers can. This was not father and son this was two
lovers at one with each other.

We dried ourselves in total silence until Wim looked deep into my eyes and
I knew words of wisdom were about to be voiced, "Dad, I'm hungry."

"So am I; let's eat."

We put our bathrobes on and I raided the fridge in the kitchen and Wim put
the kettle on. Within 10 minutes we had another steaming mug of tea, four
rashers of Danish bacon each, some scrambled eggs, grilled tomatoes, a
couple of pork sausages, a couple of slices of black pudding and lashings
of fried bread done in the bacon fat. Not bad considering we had not been
at home for over a week. My excuse was it needed eating up and if you
believe that ... the moon is made of cream cheese. Doesn't do much for my
waist line either. I've just clipped Wim's ear as he wanted to know "what
waist line".

We dressed and I stood Wim against the edge of the wardrobe door and with a
pencil marked his height. He has grown a good two inches from 5'3" to 5'5"
I was right he will need new clothes or his trousers will look as though
the cat has died. That expression was new to Wim and I explained that when
someone of importance dies they fly the flags at half mast and his pants
would be half way up his legs, at half mast.  I pulled out the tape measure
and a note book from the office and set about jotting down his other vital
statistics. Date, height 5'5" chest 28" waist 22" inside leg 26 and a bit
inches, shoe size British 5 and a half wide fitting. He will need 6's in
trainers.

"Dad, can I pick my own clothes please?"

"I don't see why not, as long as they are not too outrageous and I approve,
you can have what you like. School clothes are standard anyway but your
leisure clothes should be your own choice, the ones that you are going to
feel comfortable in."

"Do you know what I've always wanted?"

I held my breath waiting for him to continue, my mind working overtime at
what was coming.

"I've always wanted a Harris Tweed Hacking Jacket."

I was "gobsmacked" I didn't think that young teens would be into something
like that.

"You will want some whip cord pants and brown brogues to match then?" I
said jokingly.

He jumped up and down with excitement and yelled, "CAN I?"

"If you want, I suppose so but I would want to see what you looked like in
the outfit before I bought it."

He was in his speed of light mode again, jumping up and down and yelling
"great oh great!"

He disappeared upstairs and before I could light another cig he was down
again fully dressed and saying he was ready to go out.

"Bloody Hell boy, give me chance to pull my scattered wits together," I
grinned at him, making my way upstairs to get ready. He yelled from the
bottom of the stairs, "Can I get the car out Dad?"

"Go carefully," I replied. I heard the back door open and the garage doors
open and the car start.  It was the first time he had been behind the wheel
and I knew I was taking a risk. From the window at the top of the stairs I
could see the drive and the garage. I watched with my heart in my mouth. As
long as he was on the drive he was legal, if he drove it on the road he
wasn't and I would have his guts for garters. The car came out of the
garage very slowly and stopped half way down the drive. His guts were
safe. I could see his face as he got out, it was wreathed in smiles. He
shut the garage door and came inside.

"Hurry up Dad, I'm ready, the car's ready, you are an old slow coach."

"Lock up and I'll be down in a sec!"

I went down stairs and said to a very happy boy, "I didn't think you could
drive."

"I can't, that was the first time ever but I have been watching you very
closely and I just did what you did. I didn't do too badly, did I. I didn't
put it on the road that was right wasn't it?"

"It was, my son, you would have been breaking the law on the road but on
private ground you were okay." I knew what was coming, I could see his
brain working and his ESP was locked into mine.

"Do you know any private ground where I could learn to drive properly."

"I do, it is called Brands Hatch. It is a racing circuit and they teach you
to drive racing cars."

The look of incredulity on his face was a joy to behold.

"You mean...?"

"Yes, but later in the year."

He went into his ballistic mode again, if he wasn't careful he would need
one of my blood pressure tablets!

We arrived at a large shopping complex just off the North Circular, a road
that encircles from the West of London to the East in a half circle using
the Thames as the diameter and boundary.  Would you believe the road that
does the same to the South is called the South Circular and the one that
circumnavigates the whole of London is a Motorway called the M25 or the
worlds biggest parking lot! But I digress. We did the usual shops that
sells kids kit and I bought him all the usual bits and pieces. His tastes
in leisure clothes were not at all outrageous and I had no bother in
getting them for him. He had never worn boxers and wanted to try a couple
of pair.  They came in packs of three, now in my young days it was other
things that came in packs of three but these were boxers. As a special
treat I bought him a speciality pair made of black silk with a little
motive on the front. He insisted that he was going to model them for me as
soon as we got home. We were passing a high class Jewellers with display of
watches in the window and he spotted the same watch he had on his wrist.

His jaw dropped open and he turned to me and said, "Did you pay that for my
watch."

"Well 18k Gold Cartier watches don't come cheap," I replied. "Come, I want
you to come in here with me."

"What for? I've got my watch."

"Indulge your old Dad please? Come on."

We went in to the shop and I asked to see a tray of charms and a tray of
gold chains. He stood just watching me as I picked out a small
St. Christopher medallion and an 18" long gold box chain.

"St. Christopher was the patron saint of travellers before the Catholic
Church demoted him and I've only given one of these to to people who I love
deeply. I know you don't wear rings and things but will you wear this one
just for your old Dad?"

Tears came to his eyes as I put the chain round his neck and his arms came
round my neck and he gave me one of his really big hugs and a smacking kiss
in the middle of the shop and whispered in my ear, "I'll wear it till I
die, I love you."

There was a polite cough from the shop assistant and I smiled at him and
paid for the present.  That left only his request for the jacket. We had to
move to a side mall to find a bespoke tailor shop to get that. Even though
the shop was in a modern shopping mall on entering the shop you seemed to
be transported back to the early Edwardian age. It had that smell about it
of hide leather and soft wool. It seemed very quiet and you sank up to your
knees in the carpet, well almost. I believe it was what one would have
called a "refined establishment."

Wim's face was a picture as he scanned the racks of jackets and suits. He
looked at the labels and exclaimed "these are made in Saville Row."

"Yes, young Sir," the assistant said, "this is our North London branch but
all the garments are made at our central London workshops. Can I interest
the young Sir in anything?"

Wim's mouth opened and shut and nothing came out. He looked at me for help.

"Tell the man what you want," I said.

Wim eventually found his voice and gave the man a description of the jacket
he wanted.

The man looked at Wim and I could see he was mentally measuring him for the
correct size and then he went to the back of the emporium and came back
with three jackets, four shirts and four pair of trousers.

"If the young Sir would like to go into the changing room and put these on
we will see if they suit him."

He emerged about five minutes later and both the assistant and myself just
gaped. The transformation was amazing. From a typical teenager he was
transformed into a stunning sophisticated young man. He looked
terrific. The jacket was a perfect fit, the Viyella shirt matched
perfectly, the guy must have put a cravat in with the bundle and Wim had
tied it to perfection, the trousers were perfect, they hugged his hips and
showed off the shape of his bottom to perfection but not in suggestive
way. The assistant found his voice before I did.

"I think we can safely say that they do suit our young Sir -- to a tee!"

"What do you think, Dad?"

"I think you need a brown pair of brogues to finish it all off."

The assistant materialised as if by magic next to Wim with a beautiful pair
of dark brown calf leather shoes and a shoe horn. Wim sat down and put them
on. It was the icing on the cake.

"You look a million dollars, my son, does everything feel okay."

"Yes everything fits perfectly and they are really comfortable, can I keep
them on?"

"I don't see why not."

The assistant gave me the bill, Wim looked at it, gulped, and suggested he
took all of them off and we went to see if we could get them cheaper
elsewhere. I told him not to be silly and paid up. I signed the credit card
slip by pricking my finger and using my blood. The assistant was at pains
to explain that as all the clothes except the shoes and shirt were tailored
with a teenager in mind, that as he grew if we brought the jacket and
trousers back there was sufficient material in them so they could be
altered to fit at least twice. He also pointed out that even with the
alterations he would never wear them out so they could be passed on to his
little brother!!!!

Wim walked out of the shop with the air of the young man about town. All he
wanted was a shooting stick and a tweed cap and he was fit for "County Set"
at Ascot. As we got outside he looked at his watch and I knew exactly what
was coming next. The Gannet was hungry. Now I must admit so was I. He
turned to me and said,

"Dad I'm--"

"So am I, lets eat."

In this shopping complex was a TGIF steak bar so we headed for that. Potato
skins with cheese as a starter, Sirloin medium rare and all the trimmings
with a side order of onion rings, salad with blue cheese dressing and a
banana split with cream to finish off with. It all went down very well.

"Come on Wim we've another place to go before we go home and before you
ask, wait and see!"

We collected the car and I drove into town. Parking in central London is
like trying to find "rocking horse shit" but our luck was in and there was
one parking meter free only yards away from where I wanted to be. Wim's
eyes lit up like 100 watt bulbs as we walked to a very large computer
store.

"Are you--?"

"I promised you one and I've never broken a promise in my life so as we
were nearly in town I thought we may as well get one and then we can spend
the rest of the day setting it up."

"What am I going to get?"

"I dunno, lets see what they have."

The place was like an Aladdin's cave of computer hardware, software,
scanners, CDR's, work stations, joy sticks, you name it they had it. All
the kit was set up in a demonstration room and within seconds of going in
Wim had disappeared in to that area. Whilst he was looking I bought a
switch so I could switch my scanner between two machines and was
contemplating doing the same for the printer but decided against that as I
am sure Murphy's law would have come into operation and we would both want
to use it at the same time.

This boy with eyes like saucers tugged at my sleeve, "Come at look at this,
Dad."

I followed him to the demo room and he plonked himself down in front of a
machine.

"This is fantastic, it has a P2 450 MHz 128 Megs of RAM an 8 G/bit HD a 30
times CD drive ..." He went on and on and on. "... and for an extra 50 quid
you can have a 19 inch monitor."

I pushed him off the seat and sat down with him hanging round my neck and
played with it. Why does everyone "play" with a computer rather than "check
its performance" Well I did both. It was a nice machine. We bought it, a
computer trolley, a Photo quality printer and a CDR drive. The guy asked if
we wanted them to fit the drive and Wim piped up,

"No thank you my Dad will do it, he is an expert."

His bottom got a clip through those beautiful trousers and he shut up.

The guys in the shop helped us load up the car just before the Traffic
Warden appeared with a ticket. We were 10 minutes over time but as we were
loading he let us off.  They are not all bad, just most of them. As we were
driving home Wim suddenly said,

"We have forgotten something, this computer hasn't got a modem."

"I haven't forgotten," I replied, "we are going to connect this one up to
an ISDN line, okay." He nodded and I continued, "The telephone company is
doing a deal on the ISDN card and when you sign up for their service they
provide the card at half price."

"Oh brilliant, when will they come and connect us up?"

"Well let's get this lot up and running first."

We arrived home and almost before the car was stopped he was out and
unlocking the front door.  I flipped the boot lid from inside the car and
by the time I had got out he had started unloading the kit. I suggested we
assemble the trolley first and then start from there. I let him get out all
the bits and whilst he was doing that I put the kettle on. It took him
twenty minutes to assemble the trolley, he had done a good job and there
was no bits left over so as I dragged him into the kitchen to drink his tea
I noticed he must have gone up and changed his clothes as he was wearing
tracksuit bottoms and a tee shirt. As my Grandmother would have said his
eyes were shining "like a shit house door on a frosty morning" that was in
the days of the family four holer at the bottom of the garden, even before
my time. He just could not contain himself and his enthusiasm was
infectious. We both went back into the office, mugs in hand and unpacked
the rest of the kit and connected it up.

"You may have the honour of switching it on for the first time, after all
it is your machine," I said.

His eyes aglow he turned it on. It bleeped and went into its check routine.
As with all new machines it wanted to know the far end of a fart, what it
smelt like and which way it had gone.  I told him to fill in his details as
it was his machine and left him to it.  Eventually I heard the usual
Windows sound and a yell of joy from the office. His head poked round the
kitchen door, I was about to prepare dinner, he had that "shit eating" grin
on his face,

"Do you know what operating system it has?" and before I could answer he
said, "Wim Blows 98!"

"And who is Wim going to Blow," I asked with a grin.

"You tonight," and he disappeared back in the office.

"DAD, don't bother to prepare dinner, let's get a Chinese sent in. It will
save cooking and washing up."

And give you more time to play on your computer, I thought to myself. Still
it also gave me more time to go and have a proper look at the system and
fit the CDR.

"Do you know, Wim, this system is 100% better than mine," I said after
putting it all back together and loading the drivers for the CDR.

"Well you use this one and I'll have your old one."

"No sweetheart, thank you anyway, but this one is yours and if need be I
will upgrade mine when I need to."

I picked up the phone and ordered our dinner, 20 minutes they promised and
as the shop was only 5 minutes down the road I knew they would be on time.
The door bell chimed and Wim disappeared to the front door.

Two minutes later he yelled from the dining room "Dinner up." he had set
out the cartons of the meal on trivets with two dinner plates and had found
the chop sticks. We ate the meal more or less in silence. It was good. I
noticed it was dark outside and checked the time. Why is it when you get on
a computer it is like being with my Wim, time accelerates! It had got round
to 2200 and the TV was still cold. That must be a record. We went into the
living room and watched the news. As usual nothing good. Wim climbed on my
knee, put his arms round my neck and gave me a kiss.

"Time for bed, I want to try out that operating system," he said with a
sexy grin. It made a change for him to actually walk up the stairs instead
of me carrying him up to bed dead to the world.

"Up you go then, I'll lock up and be with you in a minute."

As I walked into the bedroom he was laid in bed with just his head showing
above the duvet. I undressed and he turned on the bedside light and I
turned off the main one.  I slipped in beside him. He immediately assumed
the Wim position. My arms went round him and I cuddled him close to me. Our
lips met in the most gentle kiss ever. We knew we loved each other and
words were not needed. At that point in time we were father and son but as
our body heat warmed us up we became more and more lovers. Our hands
explored our now familiar bodies. We each knew every nook and cranny, we
knew the places we loved to caress and be caressed. He slid on top of me,
his hands each side of my face. My hands slid down his back till I reached
his soft warm beautifully rounded bottom. I stoked his skin and he buried
his lips into mine, no longer a gossamer kiss but one with passion. I
returned it with interest. We broke the kiss and our lips went to each of
our ears and we whispered in unison "I love you." Two tongues came out and
licked the inside of our ears. The sensation sent little shivers up and
down our spines. I felt his boyhood quiver on my tummy and he had opened
his legs and mine had pushed up between the top of his thighs and the head
was resting on his scrotal sack. I wrapped my legs round his causing the
insides of his thighs to grip my manhood and he responded by slowly lifting
his hips up and down. I let a finger stray to his anus and he moaned in my
ear. He thrust upwards and I let just one finger enter him. He moaned again
and stopped his gyrations and just lay there enjoying the feeling. I found
his prostate and very gently massaged it with just sufficient pressure to
give pleasure but not cause an ejaculation. He moved slowly upwards till he
was sitting on my chest, still with my finger inside him. He moved round
180 degrees and his knees were by my head. He put his hands under my thighs
and pulled them upwards so my feet were flat on the bed and me knees up. He
moved his hands down the inside of my thighs gently opening my legs. One
hand took my throbbing penis and the other slipped between my buttocks and
I felt his finger enter me.  It was my turn to groan in ecstasy. I could
see his boyhood pulsing with his heartbeat inches away from my mouth. I
needed to taste him and I moved my head so my lips encircled his leaking
tool.  We were in unison yet again, as I sucked his rigid member into the
depths of my mouth I felt him do the same to mine. We were in no hurry. We
both intended this to last, and last it did. It was the movements of our
fingers that was the signal, this time we did not roll over, he stayed on
top, his hips bucked up and down as did mine. Slowly at first but gradually
the speed built up. The synergy between our mind and bodies was amazing, we
were at one and we climaxed at exactly the same time, I think that was the
first time ever we had cum at the exact same moment, we had been close
before but never like this time. We were exhausted, Wim swivelled round and
laid half on half off my right side with his face snuggled into the nape of
my neck, his arm across my chest.  My arm was round his back at chest
height and I hugged him till out flesh was as one.

"Night night, sweetheart," I said.

"Night night Dad," was the reply.

I turned off the light kissed the top of his head and we both went to
sleep.


End of Part 1

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