Date: Mon, 20 Sep 2010 10:12:08 -0400
From: Z McGuire <zanemcguire@hotmail.com>
Subject: Discovering Nick - Part 1 of 6

Discovering Nick - Part 1 of 6
By Zane McGuire
zanemcguire@hotmail.com

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My name's Mackenzie Lawson, but everyone calls me Mack.  I'm 45 years old
and I've been widowed for about four years.  My wife, Peggy, died in a car
accident shortly after our 20th wedding anniversary.  She was the love of
my life, my high school sweetheart, and I'm pretty sure I'll never get over
losing her so young.

Peg and I had three wonderful children.  Our oldest, Nicholas, was 20 and a
sophomore at the local state university, which was about 150 miles away
from our home in the country.  The twins, Ryan and Grant, had just turned
18 and were finishing out their last year of high school.  We were blessed
with three very responsible, very well-mannered boys, and I couldn't be
more proud of them.

I was never one that was prone to depression or melancholy.  I was
absolutely rocked when Peggy died, and I certainly shed my share of tears,
but I was raised to look at life practically and so I focused on making
sure our boys were okay.  They took it hard, especially the twins.  They
were always closest to Peg, whereas Nick was always closer to me.

Nick and I were pals.  Growing up, he always shared most of the same
interests I did.  When he decided to move into an on-campus dorm, I felt a
pang of sadness.  Not just because I realized my son had become a man, but
because I'd really miss having his company.

Peggy and I always knew Nick was gay.  I know it's politically incorrect to
admit it, but we could tell.  Not that he was especially effeminate or
anything like that; quite the opposite, in fact.  But he had certain ways
of speaking and certain ways of looking at the world which just sent up red
flags to us.  So we made sure to raise all of our kids with a strong
feeling of love and support, to ensure that whatever they turned out to be,
they'd know we'd always be there for them.

Nick was 17 when he finally came out to me.  It was shortly after Peggy
died, and he worried that I would be disappointed in him.  Instead, I told
him how proud I was of him and how brave I thought he was... and I told him
his mother would feel the same.  After that conversation, Nick had a sense
of confidence and pride that filled me with joy.

Nick visited the house every weekend to do his laundry, spend some time
with his brothers and check on his old man.  I know that he felt sorry for
me, and I admit, I was turning into something of a sadsack.  Losing Peggy
had been such a surprise, and I never expected to be spending these years
alone.

"Dad, why don't you go on a date?" Nick asked me one Saturday morning.  We
were in the basement playing darts as the washing machine hummed in the
background.  "Mom wouldn't want you to be sitting around moping."

"I'm not moping," I said.  "And I know, you're right, your mother would
want me to find someone else.  I'm just not sure it's the right time yet."

"It's been four years, Dad."

"I know.  I don't know what the magic number is... I guess I'll know it
when I feel it."

"Well, I don't want to push you.  I just worry about you, that's all."

I smiled at him.  "You shouldn't worry about me, son, I'm just fine.
You've got enough on your plate these days.  How's school?"  I felt it was
appropriate to change the subject.

"School's great, I'm really enjoying myself."

"Good.  Your grades have been fantastic, so I hope you are at least
rewarding yourself with a little... you know... debauchery."

"Dad!" he laughed.  "I don't have time for 'debauchery', I'm always at the
library studying."

"I mean it, Nick, you really need to take some time for yourself in the
midst of all this.  Go out, meet people, have fun. Trust me, son, you'll
wish you had one day."

"Well, it's not like I'm a monk or anything... I've gone on some dates."

I raised my eyebrow.  Since leaving home, Nick had never mentioned having a
boyfriend or even seeing anyone on a regular basis.  "Really?  That's
fantastic, son, who's the lucky guy?"

"Oh, I've seen a few different people."

I cleared my throat.  "Well then!"

"No, no it's not like that, Dad, I promise.  I'm not whoring up the town,"
he laughed.  "Just dinner and a movie here and there.  The sad thing is,
with my class schedule, I really don't have time for more than that."

"Make time.  You need someone."

"I know.  And so do you."  He grinned at me .  "See how easy it is?  You
try to change the subject and BAM, I change it right back."

"You are too clever, buddy," I said, shooting a dart at the board.  "I
don't disagree with you.  I'm just taking it slow."

"Well don't take it too slow.  After all, at your age, you really MIGHT go
blind if you wait too long," he said with a playful wink.

"What do you...?"  Suddenly his inference hit me and I blushed.  "Nick!"

"Hey, don't deny it, Dad, we ALL do it, and it's been a real long time for
you.  I'm just saying there's more to life than Rosy Palm and her Five
Sisters."

"Nicholas David Lawson!" I exclaimed, but couldn't help but laugh.  "That
is... that is just..."

He shook his head.  "Struck a nerve, Pop?"  He tossed his last dart at the
board and crossed his arms.  "Looks like I win again, Old Man."

He had managed to fluster me, and I wasn't sure why.  The truth was, he was
right.  In my loneliness, I had turned to jerking off as my chief form of
entertainment.  It was the only thing I felt I could do that wouldn't be
considered "cheating" on Peggy.  But I certainly wasn't going to be
discussing that with my son!

However, Nick was never known to take a hint.  "Dad, don't get me wrong,
there's few things I enjoy more than shooting a load after a long, hard
day," he grinned, making obscene jerking motions with his hand, "but even I
like the real thing sometimes."

"Okay, buddy, I get the message!" I said, laughing hysterically.  Nick had
always known how to tease me.  I was a fairly uptight guy, and he was
always the joker.  Ever since he was a little boy, he'd taken great
pleasure in tricking me into doing and saying things that caused me to
blush.  I think it was his way of trying to get me to loosen up.

He went outside to shoot hoops with his brothers and asked if I wouldn't
mind putting his clothes in the dryer for him.  I watched the boys play for
a bit until the washing machine buzzed, signalling the end of the cycle,
and I made my way back down to the laundry room.

I grimaced as I opened the lid; inside was a mass of jumbled clothes and
colors.  Nick was your average college student; he really didn't care about
things like seperating colors or reading washing labels.  I dumped the
clothes into the dryer and opened the nylon laundry bag to begin sorting
the next load for wash.

I busied myself with the task at hand and allowed my mind to wander to the
various decisions left to be made today.  What to feed the boys?  Should I
water the grass?  Does it need it?  Did the twins order their yearbooks
yet?

Just then, I reached into the bag and pulled out a pair of khaki shorts.
As I shook them out and put them into the right stack, something heavy fell
out of the pocket and hit the floor, making a solid ringing noise and
rolling between the washer and the dryer.

"Shoot!"  I mumbled, flashing back to Peggy chastising me.  "Don't forget
to check the pockets, Mack!  We could retire off the spare change I find in
there every week!"

"I guess I never learn, do I Peg?" I smiled as I reached between the washer
and the dryer.  I felt the object, just out of my reach.  It felt metallic
and cold.  I forced the dryer back just a bit more and managed to get my
hands around it.  "Ah-HA!" I said, pulling it out, "Gotcha!"

Climbing back to my feet, I looked at what I'd found.  It was a solid steel
circle, about four inches in diameter.  It was heavy as I examined it,
wondering what on earth it was.

"Dad, the twins and I were thinking of ordering a pizza, do you want to..."
Nick came bounding into the room carrying the basketball, breathless and
smelling of sweat.  "Hey, what are you doing with that?" He asked.

"I was just putting your clothes in the washer and it fell out of your
pocket.  What the heck is it?"

He gave me a perplexed look and took the silver ring from my hand.  "Come
on, you know what it is!"

"No, I honestly have no idea."

He chuckled.  "Well what do you THINK it is, Dad?"

I shrugged, wondering what the great mystery was.  "I don't know, it looks
like... um... like maybe one of those brass rings you grab on the Merry Go
Round at the carnival or something."

He blinked at me for a minute before bursting into hysterical laughter.
"Dad!  Come on... even YOU must have seen a cockring before?"

I felt my face blush again, wondering if I'd been set up for one of his
practical jokes.  "Nick, for God's sake!"

"Seriously!"

"That is not... that's not one of those..."

"What?"

"Well, I'm not going to say it."

"COCK ring..." he repeated, emphasising the first word.  "It's a RING.  For
your COCK."

"Nicholas, now come on, that's not funny."

"Who's joking?" He continued to laugh.  "But thank you for finding it, I
was wondering where it had gotten to."

"So you're not going to tell me what it really is?"

"I told you!  It's a cockring!"

"Nick," I was getting impatient.  "I know you think I fell off a turnip
truck, but I know what... one of THOSE... looks like, and it doesn't look
like that."

He snorted.  "Well... what do you think they look like then, Dad?"

"It's got... you know... a leather thing with snaps and...."

His eyes bulged slightly.  "Well, WELL... the old man DOES have his
secrets.  Is that what YOURS looks like, Pop?"

"Now, Nick..."  I stammered, but couldn't help but smile; he had a way of
doing that.  "Now stop that, son!  I'll have you know that I've seen one of
those... things... in a store one time.  And I've never seen one that
looked like THAT," I said, pointing at the steel ring.

"Well, newsflash, Dad, there's more than one kind of COCK...ring."  He
grinned as he spoke.  "I assure you, this is one, too."

"But what... how did..."

"What, you want to know how it works?  Easy, you just put your junk through
here, but you gotta be soft, and then when you get hard, it sort of makes a
clamp..."

"NICK!" I interrupted him.  "That's NOT what I was going to ask you!  I
wanted to know what you were doing with something like... that!"

"Duh!" he said.  "I use it, what the heck did you think I did with it, play
horseshoes?"

"You USE it?" I repeated.  "For what?"

"Well, for sex, of course.  And sometimes when I jack off because it makes
my dick really..." he began.

"WAIT!  I get it, I get it."  I turned away from him, busying myself with
the rest of his laundry.  "I think I get the picture.  Just take
your... ring... and try not to lose it in your laundry next time."

He dropped the steel ring into his pocket and smiled.  "No worries, Pop.
But hey, if you happen to come across my leather one with the snaps, you're
welcome to keep it for yourself!"

"NICK!"

He laughed as he returned outside.  That boy!  I took a deep breath and
continued sorting his laundry.  Part of me wondered if he was serious about
the leather ring.  I remembered seeing that in the store and always being
curious what it was for.  That was back in the days before Viagra, of
course, so I imagined it was for guys who had a hard time
with... well... you know.  Peggy and I had such a vanilla sex life; it was
satisfying, but nothing spectacular, so I guess I WAS a touch naive when it
came to things like that.

Later that night, after the boys had finished their pizza and the twins had
gone down to the basement to play XBOX, Nick and I gathered up the trash
and brought it outside.  It was a beautiful fall night; there was a slight
breeze rustling the trees and the moon was full and bright.

As I shut the trash can, Nick laid down on the lawn and stared up at the
sky, resting his head on his hands.  "Look at that!" he gasped.  "I love it
out here.  I forget sometimes when I'm at school how clear it is out here.
I miss the stars."

"Yeah," I agreed, looking for the Big Dipper.  "It's one of the reasons we
chose this house.  I've seen all kinds of cool stuff out here."

"I bet," he said, sighing.  "Here," he said, patting the ground next to
him.  "Come lay next to me and let's see how many constellations we can
find, just like we used to do when I was a kid."

"Dear god, Nick, if I get down there, I might never get back up."  I
groaned as I leaned over to join him.

"Oh,I know, I know, you're SUCH an old man, ready for retirement and the
old folk's home at fourty-fucking-five!"

I cringed.  "When exactly did this penchant of yours for profanity start,
son?  I don't exactly remember you cursing like that when you were home!"

He laughed.  "I guess that's what college does to a man."

"Not sure I like it."

"Well, I personally LOVE a man with a foul mouth."

I groaned in response.  "Nick...."

"Oh, relax," he said.  "I'm gonna get you to unclench if it kills me!"

I shook my head.  "Oh, is that your life's goal now?  To embarrass your old
man into submission?"

"Oooh, submission, I like that!" He cooed.

"Gross."

We sat quietly for a time, staring at the stars.  Occasionally he'd call
one out.

"Remember when I was little and we'd pretend to see all the constellations
with crazy names?"

I chuckled.  "Yeah... god, I don't even remember half of them."

"I do.  There's Puppis," he said, pronouncing it "POOOOOP-is." "And there's
Scutum with his Pictor in Bootes' Fornax..."

We started cracking up.  I had completely forgotten that game.  As our
laughter died down, a cold breeze blew across us, giving us both a chill.

"Whoa, time to head inside," I said, pulling myself to my feet.  "These old
bones..."

"Here we go again," he teased, standing up.  "You're not old, Dad.  You're
still a young man, with a lot going for him."

"Yeah, like my male pattern baldness?"  I said, rubbing my temples.

"Come on, you aren't giving yourself credit, Dad.  You're in great shape,
you run three miles a day, you've got a solid job and you're funny.
Besides, lots of women find bald guys hot," he observed.  "It's like that
in the gay community too.  I know I do," he added.

"You do?" I asked, surprised at that revalation.  "But you're just a kid,
what on earth would you want with an old bald guy?"

"Don't you know?" he asked.  "Being bald means you have a lot of
testosterone.  It means you're manly.  For me, there's few things sexier
than an older, balding guy with great legs and a hairy chest."

"I never... never knew that," I said, feeling slightly awkward.  It was
dark, but the moon was bright enough that I could see Nick's eyes and he
was clearly looking at my legs, and I could have sworn he glanced at the
tuft of fur emerging from my v-neck t-shirt.  I wasn't sure how to respond.
I had certainly learned more about my son this weekend than I ever expected
to.

"Well, I guess I'll head up to bed," he said, shivering slightly.  He
shoved his cold hands into his short pockets and paused for a moment.  "Oh,
shit, I forgot all about this," he said, withdrawing the steel ring from
his pocket.

"Oh boy," I grinned.  "Not this again."

"Hey, I should thank you, Pop!"

"Why is that?"

"Because this is gonna come in handy in about thirty minutes," he said,
raising his eyebrows. "Now if only I can find some lube..."

"Nicholas!" I exclaimed.

"Go back inside before you catch your death of cold, Grandpa!" He just
grinned as he trotted back to the house, leaving me standing there in the
moonlight.  I shook my head in bewilderment and kicked at a few stones on
the ground.  As much as he enjoyed giving me a hard time, I admit I enjoyed
it too.  It was that playful give and take that had always made us close,
and it was so nice to have him back home, even if it was only for the
weekend.

Although a chill had definitely taken to the air, I wasn't ready to go back
into the house yet.  I loved these early fall nights; the smells, the
calmness, the feeling of serenity.  I sat down on the old swing that hung
from the ancient oak by the fence and exhaled.  The house sat before me,
and I was filled with a deep appreciation for my home and family.  From my
vantage point, I could see the basement lights were still on, which meant
the twins were still fighting off Nazis or whatever on XBOX.  They would
probably be down there until at least 2AM.

Just then, I saw an upstairs light turn on.  It was Nick's room.  He walked
over to the window and pulled open the shade, sliding the window open to
let in the night air.  That's something else we had in common; he'd always
loved sleeping in the cold, just like me.  Peggy and the twins would always
fight Nick and I for control of the heat and air conditioning.

I was about to go back into the house when I noticed a flash of light come
from Nick's room.  Looking, I could see that he had the steel ring in his
hand, and it had caught the reflection of his bedroom light.  He considered
it for a second and then I saw him turn to face the window and, still
holding the steel ring, slide his hands into the front of his shorts.  He
seemed to be concentrating for a few moments, and then just like that, he
withdrew his hands, leaving the steel ring behind.

"Well I'll be damned," I whispered.  "It really is a cockring..."  In my
fascination with the function of that ring, I found myself lingering, as my
son slipped off his shirt, exposing his bare chest to the window.  I gasped
in shock.  Ever since he was about 13, Nick had shown signs of having a
hairy chest, like his old man, but in the dozen or so times I'd seen him
shirtless since then (at the pool, etc) he'd always been smooth.  His
brothers always teased him about waxing, but I never gave it much thought.

Today, however, it was clear that Nick had given up on the waxing.  My
son's chest was covered in a soft brown fur, coating his defined upper body
and flowing down across his belly and into his shorts.  He looked very much
like a grown man, and I realized, maybe for the first time, that that's
exactly what he was.

I watched as he posed in front of the mirror in his room, flexing his
muscles and rubbing his chest.  He'd taken an interest in physical fitness
in high school, running on the track team and playing soccer, so it was
nice to see he'd kept that up.  I couldn't help but feel proud that my son
was not only an overall great kid, an excellent student and a good brother,
but he was also strikingly handsome.

Just then, Nick turned back to face the window, watching his reflection
over his shoulder and I admired the taut muscles in his chest and abs.  As
my eyes wandered down, I gasped again.

I was shocked to see that there was a massive bulge tenting my son's
shorts!  From where I was sitting, I could make out the general size and
shape and... was it still growing?

"Jesus Christ," I thought, jumping out of my seat and rushing toward the
house.  "He wasn't kidding, he's gonna jerk off!"

As I made my way to the door, I couldn't help but glance up one last time,
just as Nick was slowly sliding his shorts off.  I saw the soft fur of his
belly begin to give way to a wide patch of wiry hair as his waistband slid
ever southward and I made myself avert my gaze.

I rushed into the kitchen door, feeling lightheaded and flushed.  My heart
was beating like a racehorse as I steadied myself against the countertop.

"What just happened?" I wondered.  "Why did I react that way?  Why did I
keep staring at him?  What exactly was I expecting to see?"

Suddenly, all I could think of was Nick's comments throughout the
day... "Dad, don't get me wrong, there's few things I enjoy more than
shooting a load after a long, hard day..."  "It's a RING.  For your
COCK..."  "Being bald means you have a lot of testosterone.  It means
you're manly.  For me, there's few things sexier than an older, balding guy
with great legs and a hairy chest..."

"Oh my god," I moaned.  "Stop it, stop it, stop it."  I covered my ears
with my hands and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stop hearing those words
repeating in my head.  That's when I became aware of something far, far
more disturbing.

I opened my eyes and looked down.  "Oh, nooooo," I whined as I saw my own
bulge getting thicker and thicker, as the shaft of my penis pressed against
my shorts.  "I cannot be getting turned on by this..."

I heard a noise behind me and I quickly gathered myself together.  I
pressed myself firmly against the kitchen counter, my erection rubbing
painfully against the knob of the cabinet below.  I cleared my throat and
grabbed the first thing within reach, which was a box of Saltine crackers.

"Having a late night snack?"

I looked over my shoulder to see Nick standing in the kitchen doorway.  He
was still wearing his shorts, but he had both arms up on the doorjamb.
Without meaning to, I stole a glance at his crotch.  He didn't appear to be
sporting the tent anymore, and I was wondering if I had imagined the whole
thing.  I was about to pull my eyes away when I noticed something peculiar.
Right at his waistline was the very slightest bulge, and if my eyes weren't
playing tricks on me, I could see the very smallest indication of the head
of his penis.

I hadn't imagined it.  He was still hard as a rock, but he'd tucked it into
his waistband before coming downstairs.

"Yeah, just grabbing a few crackers," I said, opening the box.  "You know
how I get when I go without carbs for a few days."

"Right," Nick smiled.  "I'm about to hit the sack, I just needed to grab
something."

He crossed over to the counter and stood behind me.  "Excuse me," he said,
his breath in my ear.

I nearly gasped.  If I moved an inch backward, I would be pressing against
my son's obvious erection in his shorts, and I'd stand the risk of exposing
my own inexplicable erection.  Instead I just grinned and moved slightly to
the left.

"Thanks," he said, opening the cupboard. "This is where you still keep all
the extra soap and stuff, right?"

"Yeah," I managed.  "Are you going to take a shower, because there's plenty
of soap in the bathroom, Nick, I just put a bunch in there the other..."

"Ah, here we go, just what I was looking for," he said, withdrawing a
bottle of lotion.  "Sorry.  Not looking for soap."  He waved the bottle at
me and grinned playfully.  "But that's good to know that there's plenty in
there, because I'll probably need to clean myself off in a little bit."  He
gave me a playful wink.  "Good night, Pop."

"Good... good night, Nick," I managed. I waited until I heard his footsteps
disappear up the stairs and into his room before allowing myself to exhale.
I leaned back from the counter and looked down.  There was no denying it.
I was hard.  From the idea of my son.  Jerking off.  In his room.  With a
cock ring....

I tossed the saltines aside and raced down the hall to my bedroom.  I
closed the door behind me and locked it.  I pulled off my belt, unsnapped
my pants and slid down the zipper.  My penis was full and pressing against
the tight jockey shorts that I was wearing and, I was about to set it free
when I paused.

"Am I really doing this?  Am I really about to jerkoff at the idea of my
son?"

I closed my eyes, feeling a mix of lust and shame and then, swallowing
hard, I slipped my hand into my shorts and wrapped my hand around my stiff
dick...

TO BE CONTINUED...

Enjoying the story so far?  Drop me a line at zanemcguire@gmail.com and let
me know!

Still to come...

"Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn...." I bit my lip to keep myself from crying out as
another blast ripped out, this time splashing across my face.  I opened my
mouth to gasp and felt the salty seed slip across my tongue.