Date: Sun, 05 Dec 1999 06:48:31 GMT
From: Mat
Subject: A Father's Gift - Part 3 - M/t/t Incest

A Father's Gift -- Part 3 M/t/t incest

Dedicated to Boytext, who's taught me a lot about a lot and deserves a good
life.

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A Father's Gift -- Part 3
	It took just over six weeks for Zack's broken arms to mend. He's
always been an active kid and he found his incapacity almost unbearably
frustrating. To give him something to look forward to, you promised that as
soon as he was out of his casts you'd take him and his best friend camping.
Although he broke his arms during school time, it was clear that you'd be
into the summer recess by the time he was free of the plaster. On Tuesday
his arms were released, and true to your word you've agreed to take him
camping up in the mountains with his closest friend Michael. He's been
talking about nothing else since. Wearing his emotions right on the surface
makes him vulnerable to people who want to hurt him, but on occasions like
this, where he's feeling happy and excited, it's wonderful to see. He
chatters excitedly through every breakfast, planning what we're going to
do, and questioning you about what to expect. He's like a ten year
old. It's another of his adorable traits.

	Now it's early Saturday morning. You swing by and collect Michael
then head for the hills. You park your 4x4 well off the road so that it's
out of sight of opportunist car thieves, then each of you takes a large
pack and you hike off into the hills. Zack is wearing cut-down jeans over
blue Lycra cycling shorts, whilst Michael is in deep orange and yellow
checked cotton shorts.  Both boys are wearing T-shirts.

	You walk for five hours, heading deep into the wilderness. You've
met Michael before, but you've never really got to know him. He's always
been courteous, perhaps even shy. Now, with just the three of you together,
you get to know him a lot better as you all chat away the miles. Although
it seems that so many teenagers grow adult before their time, neither of
these boys appears to suffer that affliction. They're not exactly childish;
just innocent, unconcerned about the stresses of approaching adulthood. Or
perhaps they're just confident, filled with the kind of self-assurance that
only loving parents can give...

	By late afternoon, you reach the place that you'll set up
camp. It's far from any marked trails, through ten miles of deep forest,
beside a small freshwater lake, with rocky crags nearby. There's no danger
of day-hikers stumbling across you here. You drop your packs and pitch the
tent. You'll be tired later and the job will be much more of a task
then. After the tent has been erected you unload the rest of your pack. You
take out a few chocolate bars and throw one to each of the boys, keeping
the third for yourself.

	"Let's go down to the lake for a drink," you suggest, and the boys
join you on the fifty-yard stroll to the water's edge. You dip in a metal
cup you've brought and fill it. You examine the clear water in the cup then
take a tentative sip. It tastes pure and crisp. You take a big swig, the
pass the cup to Michael. He drinks then passes the cup on to Zack who
finishes the water.

	The three of you sit on the ground by the lake. Years of decayed
ferns and windblown pine needles have built up layer upon layer of soft
detritus, and the ground is spongy and pleasant. You're an experienced
hiker, but the boys are not so used to the distance and they both look
beat. Michael lies back on the soft ground, whilst Zack reclines on his
side, propping himself up on his elbow. You make idle chit chat, talking
about the journey so far, what you'll have for dinner and discussing your
plans for the following day.  After a while, you take the cup from Zack and
go and refill it, scooping the water from deeper and a little further out
where then sunshine hasn't removed its chill. You take a quick sip as you
stroll back to the boys. Very refreshing! Without warning you tip most of
it onto Michael's belly. Despite his T-shirt, the effect is instant and he
sits up with a gasp and looks at you with his mouth forming a shocked "O",
his eyes alive. Zack looks at Michael and laughs so you launch the
remaining third of a cup at him. He leaps up to avoid the water, but he's
not quick enough and it hits him right in the face.

Zack dives at you, but Michael stands awkwardly by, not sure how to act, or
how much familiarity to show. Zack hangs from your shoulders looking you in
the face, and you easily support his weight.

He shouts to Michael, "Come on Michael, help me!"

Michael hesitates, and you swing Zack around. Then, uncertainty over,
Michael launches himself at you and he lands on your back. He's a big lad
and you stagger momentarily as he hits you, but then you start to spin in
circles roaring like Godzilla and pretending to struggle. Roughhousing like
this so often leads to pain when one person gets carried away and gets too
rough or spiteful, but not with these boys. Although they're both
struggling fiercely, you realise that they're both being very careful not
to overdo it.  You reach behind you and grab Michael's upper thighs,
pinning him to you. At the same time you grab Zack in a bear hug. Then you
charge towards the lake.

When it becomes obvious that you plan to jump into the lake with your two
passengers, Michael shouts, "No!" You stop and he quickly adds almost
apologetically, "Not with my boots on. They'll take ages to dry."

Thank goodness for his common sense. If he hadn't stopped you, tomorrow
you'd all be walking around with wet boots and horrible blisters. You lower
the boys to the ground. You turn to Michael and tousle his hair.

"Good thinking big guy! Just in time."

He glows at the compliment. You turn back to Zack, not willing to trust him
on your blind side so close to all that water. But he hasn't bent down to
splash you. Instead, he's sitting down taking his boots off. Michael
follows suit, so you follow their lead. By the time your boots are off, the
boys are down to their underpants. You undress, allowing them to dictate
whether or not you'll skinny-dip. You glimpse a quick little exchange
between them and Michael jumps onto your bare back. They've obviously
decided that underpants is far enough.

You quickly drop your own shorts and stand up in just your
boxers. Michael's body is warm against yours and his skin brushes against
you in a most enjoyable way. Although there's a potentially sexual charge
to the contact, the boisterous physicality of two males has its own unique
pleasures. You're bonding in a way that conversation alone will never
achieve.

You run the last few paces to the water and continue down the shallow
two-foot, pebble-covered incline that could generously be described as a
"beach". With the water lapping around your knees, you bend forward
rapidly, catapulting the big lad over your shoulders straight into the
water. The second Michael's gone, you feel Zack take his friend's place on
your back.  Without wasting an instant, you turn away from the shore and
fall backwards, with your son beneath you. The water is freezing and all
three of you emerge gasping at the cold and looking around amused by each
other's reactions.

You play in the water for fifteen minutes before hunger and the cold start
to get the better of you. You're just thinking about suggesting that you
get out and make dinner, when the two boys jump you from behind. Their
combined weight, added to the element of surprise, is enough to pull you
over, and you fall splashing beneath the surface of the water. Someone
transfers his weight to your chest, pushing you still further under
water. Then you feel a hand on your genitals. Momentarily cupping them,
before gripping your penis through your underwear and pushing down towards
its root in an unmistakably sexual gesture.

You thrash wildly in surprise, but it takes you a few seconds to break
surface. You look to the boys hoping to see by their expressions which one
just groped you, but both have their backs to you and they're running in
slow motion towards the bank. You chase them, saying nothing, not sure if
the game is still on or if they've decided to bring things to a close. They
get out of the water. The sun is low in the sky and it's much too cold to
stand around. They scoop up their clothes and return to the campsite and
you continue to follow, wondering who groped you. You don't know how you
feel, but as you trot back to your camp you play the possibilities over in
your mind.

In all the time since you first masturbated your son in the shower, he's
never been the one to initiate anything, although you have fooled around
several times since then. This would be represent a wonderful progression
in your relationship if he finally felt bold enough to make advances to
you; even just in play. On the other hand, if it was Michael that touched
you, it would be even more exciting, and the implications would be more
than you'd dare to hope.

You arrive at the tent and the boys drop their clothes to the floor, then
stand around momentarily awkward. They're both standing in their wet
underpants. Zack in his white cotton Y-Fronts and Michael in grey briefs.
The water has made the cotton stick to their skin, and their genitals are
clearly outlined. Zack's are small, but Michael's are larger and more
intriguing.

Zack breaks the impasse and drops his underpants to the ground. As you'd
suspected, the freezing water has had its effect and his penis is
shrivelled so tightly that it's almost completely non-existent. It's
perhaps an inch long at best, and most of that is foreskin. It looks
tightly puckered like a minute sea anemone. His balls have retracted
entirely, and you can just about make out two lumps in the soft flesh on
either side of the place where his penis joins his body. His short, black,
spiky pubes look glossy, as if there's oil on them.

Not wishing to look cowardly, Michael drops his briefs a moment later.
Michael's a strange one. He's just fifteen; only nine months older than
Zack, but must be the best part six feet tall and he's built like an ox.
He's not exactly muscular, but he has that naturally huge bone structure
that makes him look powerful. He's the kind of kid that people naturally
call "Hoss". When he lowers his pants, you risk a look, just in case it's
your only opportunity. His penis is obviously cold because it has a tight,
firm look to it that's nothing to do with an erection. Yet despite that, it
must be three, maybe even four inches long. It bends, downwards in a
banana-like curve, too cold to dangle. Its foreskin is open a little at the
end and points upwards slightly, like an upside-down teapot spout. You can
just see his glans within. The cold has turned it a very pale whitish
purple colour.  Below his penis is a very tight scrotum. It's even paler
than Zack's and about the size of a manderin orange, and just as
round. It's deeply grooved, like the surface of a brain. The temptation to
run your finger along one of the grooves is almost irresistible, but
somehow you control yourself. However, the most surprising thing of all, is
the fact that he's as bald as a coot. There's not even a hint of hair
around his pubic region. The skin of his genitals is exactly the same
colour as the rest of his body, with none of the darkening that would
indicate the onset of puberty. You've heard of late developers, but this
kid must be at the extreme end of that scale. He must take one hell of a
lot of grief at school for this. Then again, judging by his physique,
perhaps not...

He looks up and catches you staring but rather than allowing time for an
uncomfortable moment, you quickly wave in the general direction of Zack's
groin and light-heartedly say,

"It was REAL cold in that water, eh Zack?!"

Michael turns to look where you've indicated. Zack looks down at himself
and blushes red. Old faithful! Then something catches his eye and he says,

"It doesn't seem to bother you Dad!"

For a moment you're puzzled, then you look down at yourself. You're half
hard and your penis is straining at your wet boxers, trapped at an angle
below 45 degrees by the unyielding cotton. Now it's your turn to feel
embarrassed. Was it the groping or the sight of the two boys naked? This is
a tricky moment. If you show your embarrassment, he'll gain the upper hand,
which you don't really mind now that your distraction tactic has worked.
What you do mind is showing any self-consciousness about your natural
bodily functions. If you allow yourself to blush, you'll be sending these
boys the signal that there's something embarrassing or wrong about an
erection, and that would do neither of them any good. You decide to brazen
it out.

"Ah, it's this hearty mountain air," you declare. "It makes me feel like a
boy again!" In fact it makes me feel like two boys again, and they're both
naked in front of me, you think to yourself. Your lips twitch as you
suppress a smile at the thought, but Michael must be a perceptive kid
because he gives you a quirky little smile of his own. Or perhaps he's the
one that groped you and he knows why you're hard. Oh, the delicious
uncertainty of it all!

Without rushing, you lower your boxers, and your penis is freed, not so
much with a spring, as with a hefty swing, like the boom of yacht. Both
boys look at you, but Michael is scared of being caught and looks quickly
back towards Zack. Your son continues to stare, not bothering to disguise
the object of his attention. You bend down and rummage in your belongings
for a towel, deliberately orienting your body so that both boys can still
see your penis if they want to. As you look up, you see that Zack's penis
is pressed hard against his belly. Michael is watching Zack, trying not to
look at his erection but clearly interested. The poor boy is caught between
a rock and hard place... Or a boner and a woody, take your pick! He quickly
reaches into his own pack and pulls out a towel, which he bundles at his
groin, ostensibly under the pretext of drying himself, but you have other
ideas why. He doesn't see you watching him watching Zack. For his part,
Zack's attention is so focussed on your dick, that he's oblivious of his
own erection or Michael's. For a boy who gets hard so easily and
masturbates so often, Zack is still very out of touch with his own
body... Thank God!

Michael's reaction reminds you to be careful, so you dry yourself off then
dress, neither hurrying, nor putting on a show. Zack lingers just a little
longer, caught trance-like in his own thoughts or hopes. Then he seems to
snap out of it, and he reaches over and digs out his towel. He starts to
dry himself and he seems to be genuinely surprised to discover his
erection. You see his hand pause as he touches it. He dries off in a rush
and pulls on just his cut-downs, then he excuses himself saying he has to
go for a crap.  He disappears into the woods without taking toilet paper,
and five minutes later he returns to find you preparing an open fire to
cook dinner. His face is red and flushed. He still hasn't learned what a
tell-tale sign that is.  You wonder if Michael has also noticed.

As you light the fire, Michael goes quiet, then he excuses himself too. Ten
minutes later, he returns looking sweatier than when he left. You wonder
how they can both be so unaware? They might as well say, "We're just going
to jack off in the woods." Of course, you won't say anything. It's
incredibly erotic to know what they're up to when they don't think you
do. The most secret of their little boy secrets. Instead you cook dinner
and chat like nothing happened, all the while smiling secretly to yourself.



At the end of the first night you're all thoroughly exhausted, and you go
to bed just after dusk. The tent is roomy and you've brought bed packs
instead of sleeping bags. The bed pack consists of two blankets, one to lie
on, and a thick one folded in two to wrap yourself up in. You want to give
the boys a more authentic experience, and this is far closer to the
sleeping arrangements of the pioneers who first blazed a trail across this
beautiful country.

You fall quickly asleep, with Zack sleeping beside you and Michael beside
him. You awaken sometime during the night to hear a distinctive sound. It's
either one of the boys scratching, or one of them is jacking off. You
strain to pick up a detail that will confirm it one way or the other. You
can't hear the grating sound of nails on skin. What you do hear is a soft
snigger.  It's unmistakeably Zack's boyish giggle. The rhythmic noise stops
instantly.  There's not a sound for 5, 10, 20 seconds. Then you hear Zack
whispering,

"Why have you stopped?"

Silence.

"Michael, why have you stopped?"

Silence. Then momentary activity as Zack presumably gives his friend a
shove.

"I know you're awake. Why did you stop?"

Reluctantly,

"I didn't know you were awake."

"It doesn't matter. There's nothing wrong with it."

You're filled with pride. Just six weeks ago, it filled your son's heart
with dread to be seen naked by you, much less to talk so openly about sex.
Now, he's acting as a sex therapist to his friend. Then, he was a fiercely
heterosexual virgin, now he's a horny little hose monkey who gets an
erection at the mere sight of your penis.

	Michael obviously decides not to try any further deception. With a
sheepish voice he says,

	"I was just feeling horny. I thought you were asleep."

	"It's okay Mike. Everyone does it."

	Long pause.

	"Uhm, Mike?"

	"Yeah?"

	"You weren't just going to do it on the blanket were you?"

	"Nah, I'm using a sock."

	"On your dick?"

	"Yeah."

	Snigger. The idea has obviously never occurred to Zack.

	"Mike?"

	"Yeah."

	"Have you ever let anyone else touch your dick?"

	"Nope."

	Long pause.

	"Wanna try it?"

	Another long pause.

"I guess..."

	You hear a rustling of blankets then more silence. Suddenly you
hear Michael's startled voice,

	"Christ!"

	"What?"

	"Your hand's cold!"

	"Sorry."

Even though it's just a single word, you can hear the wide grin on Zack's
face. You smile in the absolute darkness. The boys are still so young. They
still have so much to learn about the mechanics and practicalities of
physical relationships. You hear slow rhythmic rustling and you don't need
to see to know who's doing what to whom.

"Jeez Mikey, you're big."

"I know. It runs in the family. Can I feel you?"

"Sure, if you like."

Rustle, rustle, rustle. If it had been you, you would have gently chided
Zack for the slimness of his penis or its shortness, depending upon whether
he's hard or soft. Michael obviously has more manners, or perhaps
considering his own absolute lack of pubic hair, he's decided that people
in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. Either way, he says nothing as he
presumably grips Zack's penis. Instead the rustling takes on a complicated
stereo rhythm that tells you the boys are taking care of each other.

After five or ten minutes you detect a musky scent in the air. It's not the
rancid smell of normal sweat, rather it's an earthy, tangy smell. The smell
of lusty teenaged sex. The pheromones in their sweat are biologically
designed to stimulate and appeal to females, but the odour from the two
sweating, masturbating boys beside you is quite enough to arouse you too.

You hear the boyish panting that you've come to know and love so well.
Michael hisses,

"Shhh. Quiet Zack. Your Dad'll hear."

Zack quietens down, but he can't help grunting throatily as he climaxes.
Then there's a brief pause in the jacking sound as both boys stop working
each other over. Michael knows that Zack no longer needs his services,
whilst Zack's mind is momentarily blanked of all other thoughts as he
squirts.  20 seconds later he presumably remembers his responsibilities
because you hear the sound of a lone hand pumping away again.

You can't believe your ears when you hear a soft, high-pitched, repetitive
squeaking sound, like the springs of an old bed. Guess Michael doesn't have
as much self-control as he thought! You feel, more than hear, the sound of
Zack sniggering as he laughs at the irony. Michael's high-pitched squealing
is adorable. That such a big lad could have such a delicate response to
impending orgasm is a real turn-on.

Michael's squeaking continues until he suddenly cries out,

"Ahh, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, aaaaaaaauuuuuuuhhhhh!"

His finally ecstatic exhalation starts in one octave and finishes two
octaves lower and his voice cracks in his moment of bliss. Both boys lie
silent for a couple of minutes then you hear Michael's voice,

"Awesome!"

"The best," Zack agrees, then they both fall asleep, leaving you with your
thoughts and your erection.



The next morning, you're the first to awaken. You crane your head over at
the boys, not wanting your movement to awaken them. Zack is lying on his
stomach but his hand is still inside Michael's bed pack. It's impossible to
tell whether or not he's actually holding Michael's penis, but you hope so.
It'd be nice to start the day with his friend's morning piss-boner in his
hand...

You take the opportunity to study their sleeping faces. You've always loved
to look at Zack while he's asleep. Some parents get a kick out of watching
their sleeping kids because it's the only time that the kids are innocent
and peaceful. That's not your motivation because Zack's a lovely kid while
he's awake. However, in his sleep, his facial muscles relax and he takes on
an even more angelic appearance. He has quite a round face -- not puffy or
jowly, but soft and sensuous. You look down at him now, his freckles have
darkened with the summer sun and they're scattered across both cheeks,
meeting like stellar constellations across the bridge of his nose. His nose
is straight, with slightly wide nostrils. His usually spiky hair is longer
than he normally wears it. He's let it go with the approach of summer. It
swirls in anarchic tussles, and he reminds you of a comic book kid -- one
of the Little Rascals, or Peter Pan perhaps. His lips are pink and soft,
without being too overtly pouty or feminine. His eyelids are gossamer thin.
They're flickering as his eyeballs twitch beneath. Maybe he's dreaming. You
wonder what about. You look closer and you can see delicate wrinkles in the
texture of his eyelids. The soft skin reminds you of the fine skin of his
scrotum, which is as light as the membranes of a bat's wing.  His little
sack is so thin, yet it houses such wonderful and tender nuggets. You
marvel that something so thin can be strong enough to serve such an
important function.

You look over at Michael. It's unlikely that you'd get an opportunity to
examine him very closely in the normal course of things, so you savour this
opportunity. He's very different to Zack. He has a strong jawline, and
you've tended to think of him as having a harder face than your sweet son.
Now as you scrutinize him more closely, you realise that that impression is
perhaps an overstatement because he's just a kid like Zack. Jeez, he
doesn't even have pubes yet for goodness sakes! His face is less perfect
than Zack's, but you appreciate imperfection. It reveals his humanity, and
anyway, most really exceptional-looking people tend to be vain in your
experience. Not Zack of course, but then he has an exceptional personality
to go with his exceptional face and body.

Michael has a longer face than Zack. It's not thin, but it has a slightly
bookish, nerdy quality to it. His eyebrow ridges are just a little more
pronounced than most. It's not as though he's a Neanderthal or anything,
but it does contribute to the sense of imbalance. His nose has definite
lump midway down. Perhaps it's been broken. His hair is light brown, but
the sun has turned some parts of it almost gold, giving him subtle and
attractive highlighted streaks than no amount of Sun-In could emulate. He
has pale skin, like Zack, but his cheeks have a permanent dappling of
redness, as if he's flushed. He's by no means ugly, and all the
imperfections simply create a sense of awkwardness about him that triggers
your protective instincts.

You clamber from the tent and make the fire to boil the water for morning
coffee. You take a billycan and go down to the lake to fill it. When you
return, both boys are standing on the other side of the camp with their
backs to you, peeing into the brush that forms a natural barrier there.
They're both standing in their underpants. Michael has both hands on his
hips and is making funny little gyrations with his hips. At first you
assume that he's writing his name in the dirt, but as you get closer, you
see that the stream of piss is arcing away from him at nearly chest
level. Guess you're not the only one to wake up with a broomstick in your
pants! Now you think about it, Zack is not standing very straight. You
remember the way that his erection hugs his belly. He wouldn't dare to piss
no-handed unless he wanted a faceful. You realise that his slightly awkward
position must be down to the fact that he's trying to bend his bone down
far enough for safety. Even so, now that you're very close, you see that
the stream of urine from his dick almost reaches head height. Narrow dicks
always piss the highest. It's a simple matter of pipe diameter versus water
pressure. It's a good way to tell how well endowed someone is without
looking directly at their dick.

As you reach the fire, you hear the two boys laughing together. They're
looking down at each other and comparing piss streams. Zack directs his
streamer towards Michael's and you hear Michael say solemnly,

"Never, ever cross the streams. That would be bad."

It's a line straight out of Ghostbusters and you smile at the boy's
wit. You wish that he was quite that comfortable around you. Zack looks at
his face, momentarily failing to pick up on the reference. Then he
splutters and the two boys burst into laughter. You say,

"Morning boys."

They whirl around in surprise, and you get the briefest glimpse of
Michael's erect penis before he realises his mistake and turns away
again. It's clearly bigger than Zack's but because it's facing straight
towards you, you can't really gauge its length. He hurriedly turns away and
stuffs it back into his briefs. Zack takes more time, finishing his piss
properly before tucking himself away again.

"Hi Dad," he says casually and turns and walks back to the tent. His little
flagpole is at full mast, and its head is propping up his underpants just
below the elasticated waistband of his white Y-fronts. His tight balls are
visible through the underpant leg-holes, which his erection has pulled
open.

His brazen action puts the pressure back onto Michael. The boy is clearly
embarrassed but he turns and with his head held high, he tries to walk back
to the tent with as much dignity as his very red face and his not
completely wilted penis will allow. He'd have looked a lot more dignified
if there wasn't a dollar sized wet patch on the front of his briefs where
he's tried to cover up before he's stopped peeing. You look pointedly at
his crotch and say in a sing-song voice,

"Morning Michael."

Then you give him a huge grin that makes it clear that you're relishing his
unease. He looks ground-wards and hurries into the tent without a word.



	That night, you go to bed as tired as the night before. It must be
something about the bracing air. Again, Zack sleeps between you and
Michael.  After an hour or so, you get up to go to take a pee. You
shouldn't have drunk that extra hot chocolate before bed. When you return
to the tent, Zack has rolled over in his sleep, and he now occupies the
space where you slept.  You shine your torch on his face to see if he's
awake and can be moved. He's not. He's still soundo. No problem, you grab
your bed pack and gently pull it out from under him, then you lay it out in
the space between the two boys and lie down to sleep again.

	A while later you hear a noise beside you.

	"Zack?"

	You don't say a word.

	"Hey Zack. You awake?"

	Again you remain silent, but you turn towards Michael.

	"Zack, do you wanna..."

His voice trails off. He doesn't speak again. You hear cautious movement,
then you feel the blanket being moved at waist level. A hand touches your
belly, slides straight down the front of your boxers and cups your
genitals, then freezes. It's lucky you're not a hairy man or the game would
have been up the second Michael touched your belly. However, it doesn't
matter how smooth you are, there's no way anyone would mistake Zack's
stumpy genitals for yours. The hand remains for a few seconds, as if
Michael is trying to figure out what to do. Then it slides out
soundlessly. He doesn't say a word, you feel his fingers trembling as he
draws his hand away from you. You both lay in the dark and you can almost
hear his heart pounding. He's trying to figure out what to do. He's just
groped his best friend's Dad. What's the etiquette for that? He can't even
begin to work out how one might apologise for such a thing. How would he
even start? His only hope is that you're asleep.

He stays silent for a whole minute, completely unmoving. You play the game,
waiting to see if he will do anything. You're completely aware that he must
be terrified, but you don't let him off. Your own heart is pounding for a
completely different reason. This is your chance and they don't come much
better. You slide your hand silently out of your blanket and into his. You
make contact with the skin of his stomach and you feel him flinch. You
slide your fingertips across his skin and rest your flat palm on his
belly. You can feel the tension in his stomach, and along with that, you
can feel his fluttering nerves. His faux pas gives you the right to make
advances back to him. It opens doors that would have remained firmly shut
in normal circumstances. His belly feels warm beneath your fingers. You
don't hurry, relishing his fear and uncertainty. You don't really want to
make him unhappy of course, but if he's going to make careless mistakes
like that, you feel perfectly justified to mess with his head just a
little.

You gently rub his belly and when your fingers touch the waistband of his
brushed cotton briefs, you slide your whole hand swiftly under and cup his
private parts. Now you're trembling. It's all you can do to harness your
excitement. But losing control now and jumping him would be the worst thing
you could do. Right now, he's allowing you to touch him because it's fair
payback for his earlier mistake, but that only goes so far... The trick is,
to turn his fear into pleasure. To make him want more. To make him want it
so badly that it overcomes his natural fear of adults in a sexual context.

Michael is on his side. His dick is supported by his briefs. You start
close your fingers around his package. You don't get far. He's a big lad.

"Lay on your back," you whisper. He woodenly does as he's told. You peel
his underpants down and hook them behind his balls. You have to do
everything by touch because it's so dark. You wrap your fingers around his
dick. It's incredibly warm and soft and must be at least five inches
long. His fear has killed his passion so it's like holding a bloodless
sausage in your hand.  You release it and move to his balls. They're very
big for his age, each the size of a good-sized plum. They're such a marked
contrast to Zack's bluebird egg-sized nuts. You massage his groin, but he
remains flaccid and unresponsive. You folds the blankets back, exposing his
skin to the cool night air.

"Don't worry Michael. Just relax," you coo soothingly. You remove your
boxers, and then you move over and straddle his groin carefully, resting on
your knees. Your hardness rests against his softness. You lean forwards and
kiss him on the mouth. He immediately turns away. You gently but firmly use
your fingers to turn his head back to you. You can feel the tension and
reluctance in his neck. You whisper softly, "Just relax Michael, I'm not
going to hurt you. We won't do anything you don't want to do. Come on,
it'll be fun."

You hope he doesn't realise the incongruity of what you've said. You're
already doing something he doesn't want to do. He wanted to jack off with
his best friend. He didn't want his friend's naked Dad sitting on him
trying to kiss him.

You kiss his lips again. They remain firmly closed. You massage them gently
with your own lips. You feel them gently softening as he relaxes his mouth
muscles. Then he surrenders and opens his mouth. It would be so easy to
thrust your tongue in and overwhelm him. Instead you continue kissing
gently, teasing encouraging him to get into the spirit of things. Finally,
you feel his soft lips respond. He's not a good kisser; he just moves his
lips around, but at least it's a start. Now you feel confident about using
your tongue. You slip it into his mouth, delicately probing like a snake's
tongue. Your tongues meet. He instinctively pulls his away from you. You
allow him a moment to control his gut reaction. It's a good move, and you
soon feel his tongue move back towards yours. The tips of your tongues
flicker against each other, then glide past each other wetly. He tastes
nice: sweet and full of young life.

Your attention is suddenly distracted away from his mouth. You feel his
soft penis filling with blood beneath your balls. He's like a frightened
deer.  Everything is so tentative, so cautious. It's so different to Zack's
reaction. With Zack, although he was nervous, he had no control over his
penis and it was rampant and twitching in seconds. With Michael, you feel
his penis slowly inflating, unfurling from its at rest position like
frightened mouse creeping from its hole. You grind your hips against his
encouragingly, then you feel his arms timidly wrapping around your back,
pulling you down so that you're laying on him, trapping your dicks between
you. His tongue becomes more active, now pushing your tongue from his mouth
and following it to explore the inner recesses of your own mouth. His penis
continues swelling and you realise it's growing to quite a good size. You
make a few short stabbing motions with your hips and his pelvis rises in
response.

You pull away from his mouth, sensing his surprise. You sit up and he has
to release you from his arms. In the dark he has no way of anticipating
your intentions. You hold him down, hands either side of his chest. His
skin is slippery to your touch. He must be sweating, but you can't smell
his musk over the scent of your own. You lean forward and drag a big, wide,
wet tongue up the middle of his smooth chest. His skin is salty. You feel
him shiver. Then you lick his nipples, first circling each one, then
flicking the tip of your tongue over the small firm raised nub at each
one's centre.

You slide your groin away from his, slipping off his body. You open his
legs in the darkness and kneel, legs together, between his knees. With both
hands, you reach forward and cup his testicles. They fill your cupped
hands.  You roll and massage and manipulate them. He's straining towards
you, desperate for more attention. You take his penis in your hand and try
to judge its length. It feels adult-sized. You feel his loose foreskin with
the fingertips of one hand. With the other hand you pull at the base of his
penis and the skin easily retracts. You run your fingers along his
penis. It has a very distinctive upwards curve, as if it's really eager for
attention.  Or perhaps it's that shape because he pulls it too hard when he
plays with it...

You lean forward and lick his balls. Your tongue is quite rough and it
rasps against his huge hairless sack. You suck at his balls. They're too
big to suck together, so you do first one, then the other. He's started
vibrating.  You didn't know that people did that until you started fooling
with Zack.  Maybe it's a teenage thing. He's so excited that he feels as if
he's got an electric current zapping through him.

You lick the head of his dick. It's much bigger than Zack's little morsel.
It's wet and tastes of pre-cum. His balls have lifted high into his
scrotum.  You feel it and it's deeply grooved, as it was when he was
cold. His balls are held rigidly in place. You don't want him to cum
without you. You've done enough of that for Zack. You straddle him and rest
your balls against his. Then you take his dick and yours in your right
hand. Yours is about six inches long; his is an inch longer. It feels weird
to be playing with this giant of a kid, who has a bigger dick than you do,
and far bigger balls. The weirdest thing of all is his complete
smoothness. You start to move your hand up and down your joined
members. He's started squeaking so you know you don't have long. You pump
as fast as you can, at the same time bouncing up and down, grinding your
balls together. You cum with unexpected suddenness, and it lands on
him. Although you don't groan, the wetness obviously triggers him off
because he does groan, then he bucks his hips as if he's a bronco trying to
buck you off. You carry on jacking until it becomes uncomfortable, then you
let your penis free and carry on slowly pumping him until he stats to
soften in your hand.

You roll off him, exhausted but happy. He immediately rolls over and
straddles you. You think he might be after more, but he doesn't try
anything. Instead, he straddles your groin and sits on you, reversing your
earlier positions. Your flaccid cock rests in the groove of his ass. He
lays forwards to rest his head on your shoulder, and as your bellies touch,
there's a wet squelch as the pooled cum on his belly is trapped between
you.  It feels cold, but your body heat quickly warms it. He deliberately
wriggles, enjoying the slimy feeling down there. You hug his back and he
hugs the side of your shoulders. Then, feeling profoundly contented, you
fall soundly asleep, his nudity pressed against yours. Just before you lose
consciousness, you wonder to yourself whether or not the boys will still
consider themselves to be straight by the end of this week...


The next morning you awaken slowly. You can feel Michael's weight on top of
you. His knees rest either side of your hips and he's lying on your chest.
You feel his morning erection lying against your lower belly, where his
body has trapped it. Your own erection is nuzzling his ass. You look over
at Zack to see if he's woken up yet. He's wide awake and laying on his
side, propped up on his elbow watching you. He has a curious look on his
face. His usual love is there of course, and a slight degree of
amusement. There's also a cat-like curiosity. You grin back at him.

"You okay bucko?" You want to make sure he's not jealous or upset.

"Oh I'm okay. Are YOU okay?"

You use your arm to indicate the body sleeping on top of you and give him a
"What do you think?" expression.

He chuckles loudly. "Yeah, you're okay!"

The noise rouses Michael and he slowly comes to. He turns to look you in
the face, still half asleep. You kiss him lightly on the forehead. He
smiles warmly. A barrier between you has been forever destroyed. He turns
to look at Zack. He looks somewhat sheepish as he blearily says,

"Morning."

"Morning," Zack replies. "Looks like you had a good night."

Michael looks down at our naked bodies as if suddenly realising the full
significance. I wonder if he's aware of his hard cock?  He looks back at
Zack and says,

"Yeah I did." Then he gives a bashful grin and rests his head back
contentedly down against your chest, watching his friend. You watch Zack
closely too. You're looking for any warning signs, but as usual, he comes
through for you. He's just the perfect kid. If he were any more perfect,
you'd be checking to see if he was a Stepford boy. Throughout the entire
brief exchange, there are been no negative undercurrents that you can
detect.

"C'mere," you say to him.

Zack scoots over and kneels with his face a few inches from your own. He's
so close it's almost making you go cross eyed. He really is shockingly
beautiful. His face is so open and guileless. How unlike the surly,
quarrelsome teens you see on TV. You and your wife keep waiting for him to
do that Jekyll and Hyde transformation, but it just doesn't happen. You
feel a surge of bliss as you stare into his sparkling blue eyes, then you
say,

"Have I ever told you how much I love you kiddo?"

He gives an exaggerated sigh.

"Only EVERY single day Dad!"

You lean forward and steal a kiss from his soft cheek whilst he plays to
the stands. It stops him dead and again he gets that happy, surprised
expression on his face. A simple kiss means so much to him. He's so modest;
he never takes you for granted. He shuts his mouth and tilts his head a
little like a quizzical dog, looking candidly into your face. Then he leans
over and gives you a kiss back. Full on the lips. It's your turn to be
surprised. But before you can register your surprise or hold him close to
prolong the kiss, his face is gone.

"I love you too Michael," Zack says. Then he gives his still-sleepy friend
a kiss full on the lips too. Michael's nostrils flare.

"Mmmmm," he murmurs appreciatively.

It all seems so natural. Michael doesn't seem at all shocked by the kiss.
Last night's incredible experience has been a road to Damascus experience
for him, and now he sees you both in a new light. His mind has literally
been expanded, and things that two days ago would have seemed inconceivable
and intolerable to him, are enjoyable facts of life.

Looking between Zack's arms and down his body, you can see the tent in his
underpants. His morning hard-on is quite evident. He says,

"I've got to pee."

"Just a minute, we'll join you," you say, but Zack is already clambering
out of sight past your feet. You assume that he's going straight out of the
tent, but suddenly you feel his ice-cold hand clutching your balls, and the
other is reaching past your prick to grab Michael's balls.

"Diddle iddle ee," he says in a falsetto tone, and gives your balls a quick
twirling juggle. You tense and Michael jumps like a gun just went off close
to his ears unexpectedly. We hear Zack chuckling like a mischievous Puck as
he scurries from the tent. We look at each other wide-eyed, then leap up
and bound after him, naked as the day we were born. By the time we catch
him, he's still giggling to himself, but he's already started to pee, so it
would be messy to get our revenge then. We'll have other opportunities. We
stand in a row, Zack to one side and Michael on the other, and we all piss
away our morning boners. We don't even bother to conceal our interest as we
study each other.

When you finish, you turn to Zack and he springs into your arms and wraps
his legs around you. You just have time to catch him. He used to love being
carried, but you haven't done it for a few years and he's much heavier now.
Pressing against your belly, his hard little prick with its cold wet
foreskin is an added dimension. You give him a fierce loving hug and start
back to the tent. Then you pause just a moment, turn back and lift your arm
so that Michael can be part of the group. He comes close and you drape your
arm over his shoulders, give him a little squeeze and say,

"Okay then boys, who's for breakfast?"