Date: Mon, 22 May 2006 20:55:50 -0700 (PDT)
From: Aihu Fist <aihufist@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Day Before My First School Day

It was midnight when my dad knocked on the wall from his side. My brother
wasn't home; he'd be only here on the weekends. I never wanted to be a
soldier like him. I hated the thought. It was stiff cold in my bed; I
missed my brother's body next to me. We had no central heating in those
days, but we could heat each other by lying close to each other and I
didn't have to be scared of demons with him next to me.

Another knock, more persistent, shook me out of my thinking. This was the
first time my dad called me like this. I had to go over to him. I got out
quickly, because dad didn't like to wait much. The door stood at a stint.

-Yes, dad?

-Come over her son.

I crawled into the bed next to him and held my arms stiff next to my
body. He, my dad, said nothing, my dad. He flung his arm below my head and
drew me nearer. I heard his heart race as my head lay on it. He gave me a
soft kiss on my hair.

-I love you son, he said.

I tried to see his face, but it was too dark.

-Are you cold, son?

-Yes, dad.

-Dad will warm you a bit.

-His left hand crossed his chest and started unbuttoning my pyjama
jacket. All the buttons, one after another, came out of the button hole
until my jacket lay unfolded beside my sides.

He paused right there and asked:

-Do you miss your mummy, Ricky?

-Yes, dad.

-And your brother?

-Yes, dad.

-Mmm, that is nice, it means you love them, don't you? You know before you
were born your brother used to lay down next to me just as you did. We were
best friends and he missed his mum too. Now he is a big soldier. One day
you will be one too, if you stay long enough with me, you will be the best
soldier ever. You know what your brother liked to do with me ?

-Nnnoo, dad.

-He liked to tickle me.

-Really, dad?

-Yes, son, and I tickled him back. If you like you can tickle me too.

-You like too? Go ahead, son, you are not afraid of your dad are you?

-No, dad.

So, I ran some lonely finger over his big chest, I found it rather strange
to do that in the middle of the night.

-I am very ticklish, son, especially near my tummy. Check it out.

I ran my finger lower. His belly was strong, I could feel the muscles, but
as I went deeper I hesitated and had my fingers stuck at his bellybutton. I
began to softly scratch and rub him there. He laughed a bit, but it didn't
sound genuine, really.

-Go on...

-What dad?

-Carry on tickling, but much lower if you can.

I swallowed my apprehension and continued my hand search. I stopped all of
a sudden as I felt something hard obstructing my way. What was that?

-Go on, boy, go on.

-But dad, I...

-Are you going to chicken out on me, son? Your brother did this all the
time with me. Didn't he play this ticklish game with you?

-No, dad, never.

-Hmm, funny, I knew he liked it. Never mind, son, my dad said.

He grabbed my hand, pulled it up under the sheet and let it rest on the
hard thing. He didn't release my hand at all, just secured it there with
his big manly hand over mine and pushed it down as if he were going to
flatten it. My own hand was not big enough to cover the hard thing, and
each time he pushed it down, something came alive and pushed me back in the
palm of my hand. I was holding my dad's Mickey; my fingers could barely
secure it.

-Just move the skin like you were Milking a cow tit, son.

I never milked a cow tit but I did what he suggested. My dad's legs spread
pushing my body aside a bit. His hand was now doing the same with my Mickey
and I couldn't suppress the thrill of the sensations that scavenged though
my tiny body.

-See son, I am teaching you another way of tickling. You can move your
hand in circle form, while kneading the hard thing that you feel. How does
it feel, Ricky?

-It feels strange dad...I have never felt something like that.

-Why don't you get on your side and use your right hand, it is much easier
to tickle with a right hand.

I wondered why he had unbuttoned my shirt in the first place, when it was
so cold, but now I felt my body heating up, so close to him.

-You just tickle on, while I will tickle you, Ok.

-Ok, dad, I said kind of relieved. If that was the game my dad liked I
didn't want to dissapoint him.

My small fingers were back on his hard spot. I was rubbing and plastering
it like he told me and everytime I felt something pushing me back. I
realized by now, that this was something not all children of my age did
with their dads and I shouldn't tell anyone. Dad didn't have to tell me
that, I just sensed it was something between him and me. I lost my
apprehension as curiosity took over from it.

-Dad?

-Yes, he answered while his fingers were roaming over my soft nipples and
abdomen.

-Why is this so hard here? Is it a bone?

-Yes and no...

His hand descended to my belly button and caressed me patiently. Something
came like electricity into my body from my waist below. I shivered, and it
was more than tickling. It was so strong I clasped my thighs together very
tightly and in an unwanted reflex I squeezed the hard bone in my dad's
pyjamas. My dad jolted like he got stung.

-Why did you do that, son? He asked kind of surprised.

My other hand had changed into a fist by the sensations I had felt surging
from pubes. It was so strange and overwhelming a tickle, something I had
never experienced before.

-Sorry dad, you tickle me too much there.

-Really, dad chuckled, like this I did?

Now he ran his thumb and index like a bridge from my bellybutton all the
way to my groin, I couldn't control the jerking of my hips. My thighs moved
like mad and leapt to all sides, I squirmed like a tortured worm.

-Stop it dad, please? I giggled.

He put my hand back on his hard thing, while his hand was now like a bridge
over my Mickey. I grew silent. I couldn't see it but I knew it was reaching
down bit by bit.

Then something heavy cupped my private parts. And instantly my Mickey
responded like it had never done before, it grew hard superfast. He pressed
my Mickey down while he glued my hand over his hardness.

-Yours is hard too, son.

-You mean it is the same? I mean, dad, that hard bone is your Mickey?

-Yep son, indisputably it is.

I froze, I didn't know what to say anymore. He neither. We both grew
silent, only our hands were talking in their own way, rubbing, palping, and
skidding our Mickeys. It sure felt good. My little mast was poking against
my trousers, but dad kept on pushing it down. I couldn't fathom the size of
his. He moved my fingers lower and yes, now I was convinced it was my
fathjer's Mickey that I had been holding down all the time, because I
gotten hold of his eggs and they wer biiiiig.

Dad said nothing more; we were like in a mute Chaplin movie. He laid my
hand on his chest, which he had not covered with a jacket. He didn't even
wear a vest. He was not cold at all. I don't know what he was fumbling
about below his torso and why he had taken my hand away from his Mickey,
'cause I started to like it down there. To feel a strong Mickey like that
was something in my young life. He brought up his knees which made a huge
tent; I could see that allright in the darkness.

What was he up too? He had needed both his hands. Then the knees went down
again. He picked up my right hand and asked me to crawl it over his tummy
and down. I felt his skin grow goose pimples the lower I got. But I found
no more trousers. Hair was what I met. I withdrew like something had bitten
me. He grabbed my arm and slid it over his belly. My hand lay on his
Mickey and his eggs. It was a hairy mess and his Mickey felt different, raw
fleshy and bony. Something wet too.

-Move your fingers around my pole, son and feel what happens.

I think I didn't do it too well, because my dad quickly came to my aid and
fastened his fist over my fist and helped me to move the skin up and down.

-Like that, son, soft and smoothly, no brute manhandling of my Mickey.

-I cannot do it dad, it is too big.

-Then use both hands.

I wrapped them around and finally got the knack of it. But it was hard to
concentrate on it as my dad had gotten hold of mine doing the same
movement. The friction of my Mickey's head got me rolling and shivering
with pleasure. I felt I had to pee and told my dad.

-No, you won't pee, my dear, just hold on and grind your teeth that will do
the job, but better try to relax.

I still lay on my side and it became kind of awkward for him I think,
because he asked me to come and lie on top of him. Everything went faster;
he asked nothing just did the things that pleased him. Once I lay on his
strong tummy he had my pyjama pants down and out of the bed.

-Now we are equally naked son, that's much cozier, don't you think so?

-I guess so, dad.

-Now have you ever seen two dogs in the streets, jumping each other?

-Yes, dad...one time one dog, so big, started humping on my leg.

-Well, we can do the same thing. Just think you are a puppy and I am a big
one, and you want my attention. Why don't you part your legs a bit so daddy
can put his big bone between your thighs and just under your poopoo.

-Like that? I asked and I hauled myself over his big Mickey, which was so
big that it reached my ribcage from his eggs upwards.

It was a bit uncomfortable, but now that he had it just around the corner
of my behind I was much better.

-Ok, no move your lower body as if you were going to surf on me, like body
surf.

-I got it dad, I have seen that on the beach last year. It goes like
this...

-Exactly, and try to push your Mickey into my bellybutton, push it as hard
as you can.

The feeling, I remember, of his mast scrubbing my poopoo and my own Mickey
frictioning in a sea of hair, which tickled me everywhere, drove me nearly
nuts, but I kept pushing on, until I could no more.

-What happened my superboy? Tired?

-No, dad, I t t t old you, I have to pee, I cannot pee on my dad can I?

I was actually holding my Mickey in my fist, clenching the foreskin tightly
together as not to lose a drop on my dad. My dad said nothing, he just
threw the blankets away, lifted me up in one haul and before he got his
mouth over my Mickey said:

-Give all you got, son.

And I let go all of the juice. I think I pissed like half a liter in my
dad's mouth that swallowed it all. While he did this he rubbed my butt real
sweet and lovingly. His hands cupped my tiny little eggs and played with
them as if they were my marbles. The sheer release of my pee was such a
fantastic moment of joy that I hugged my dad, I don't know why, I just did
it.

-Your pee was tasty like Fanta, he said.

We both laughed and frolicked around in the bed. He didn't make me leave
straight away, like I thought he would have.

-Dad, did my brother do exactly the same thing?

-Yes, Ricky, until he was way grown up, but once he was like twelve his
urine had become white. I will tell you sometime why. Let's go to sleep
now, tomorrow is a big day for you. Your first school day, isn't it? And I
will bring you.

He switched off the light and I lay back in his arms, his hairy legs and
knees under my butt and my head on his chest.

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

You like this?

Write to aihufist@yahoo.com

And read Prolific Authors my other stories.