Date: Mon, 1 Feb 2016 04:44:04 -0800
From: Nifty Son <niftyson91@gmail.com>
Subject: Go Fish Chapter 1

Disclaimer: This story is fictional, and any resemblance to any people
living or dead is 100% coincidental. If you're under 18 years of age, or if
it is in any way prohibited for you to read this content, please leave the
page now. This story involves sexual acts between a father and his minor
son. If such content offends you, please read no further. In no way do the
authors or hosters of this story condone or endorse any of the actions
detailed within.

(F/s, masturbation, mild watersports)

Have comments, suggestions, or just want to chat? Let me know at
niftyson91@gmail.com

Don't forget to donate to Nifty to keep stories like this available for
everyone!

::Wanted to write a bit about some memories from my early teenage years,
and my first experiences with a man. Hope you enjoy...


Dad's voice was uncharacteristically soft when he woke me up that
morning. I remember how heavy his hand felt on my shoulder as he gently
shook me awake.

"Hey buddy, it's time to wake up."

As soon as I heard his voice, my eyes bolted open. The butterflies in my
stomach that had kept me up the night before returned full force, and I was
so excited I could feel electricity all the way down to my toes. Finally.
It felt like forever, but it was finally time.

Dad smiled down at me, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners, dark
stubble standing out on his chin. I could see that it was still dark out
from the blackness behind the curtains in my room, and my alarm clock read
5:12 am. I sat up, my heavy comforter slipping down to my waist as I do,
the overlarge t-shirt I wear for pajamas hanging off my shoulder as I wiped
my eyes.

"I'm up! I'm ready, I'm awake," I slurred too quickly, my voice breaking in
an all too familiar reminder that my twelve year old body was well in the
throes of puberty. I tossed the blankets aside, toes sinking into the plush
carpet of my room, and stood in front of my dad. He chuckled while I
stretch, shirt rising with my arms to reveal the white briefs I wore to bed
the night before. I normally don't let anyone see me this undressed, but
today was the exception. Because today, Dad was taking me fishing.

I had a second to appraise him while he stood in front of me, wearing only
a fluffy white bathrobe (that I could see at least), before he ruffled my
hair. I winced playfully, huffing and rolling my eyes at him. He laughed,
and patted me on the back.

"Come on kiddo, let's hop in the shower and head out. We wanna get to the
lake while all the fish are still biting."

I followed him out of my room and down the hallway to the master bedroom,
with its attached bathroom. Ever since Mom left a few years ago, it's been
Dad's room, that he gets all to himself. I get the room down the hall, and
the hall bathroom pretty much to myself, since it's just me and Dad now. It
strikes me just how much taller he still is than me, even though I've been
growing a lot lately. His dark tan skin stands out in comparison to the
crisp whiteness of his robe, and my eyes followed the black hair covering
his legs down to his large, bare feet. From behind I could only see the
back of his head, and as we moved past his large, unmade bed, I notice a
few gray hairs starting to poke out from the forest of black. He stopped in
front of his all glass shower, much nicer than the one I use in the hall
bathroom, and turns to me before opening the shower door.

"Ready to hop in, Jordan?" He asks me, and I nod. There's a knot in my
throat, and the butterflies in my stomach are going crazy. He turns the
shower on, fiddling with the knobs until a plume of steam rises from the
stall. This part has always made me feel this way. Like there was a huge
weight on my chest, making it hard to breathe. It's only gotten worse since
my body started changing. I try not to look like I'm a few seconds from
hyperventilating, and pull my shirt off over my head. Dad smiles, and
undoes the belt on his robe.

We always do this before we go fishing. I don't really know why, maybe dad
thinks I would take too long if I showered on my own and all the fish would
be asleep by the time we got to the lake, but for as long as I can remember
we've showered together before we fish. And I remember a lot. It's hard for
me to get the image of him out of my head sometimes, lingering on the
handful of memories I have of seeing my Dad completely in the buff. He's
not the kind of dad who is naked all the time, or at least not in front of
me. Maybe we're kind of similar that way, I'm shy about people seeing me
fully naked, and I guess he is too.

I stand there motionless wearing only my tighty whities, as he pulls his
robe open. Underneath he has on his own pair of white briefs, and I get a
familiar warm feeling in my stomach when I look at the pouch and see the
cotton cradling his package. I've seen him dressed like this plenty of
times, almost every morning while we get ready. I guess he doesn't mind
being seen in his underwear, but he never ever wears less than that around
the house. I take a deep breath, and notice he's watching me. I try to act
like I wasn't looking, and turn slightly away from him. He shrugs his robe
off while I hook my thumbs into my waistband, and swallow heavily as I pull
my underwear off.

Dad is down to just his briefs when I let mine fall to the floor at my
feet. He isn't looking toward me as he slides his down, and I look my
fill. My penis is hard, I can feel it sticking up towards my belly button,
and Dad stands upright. As always, I'm struck by how much hair he has down
there. I've seen it before, but it still hypnotizes me. I only allow myself
a moment to look, trying not to be obvious, but I can feel the shock run
through me when I finally see what I've been waiting for since he asked me
about this fishing trip weeks ago.

His penis is big. Like, so big. Not long, maybe a couple inches at the
moment, but it's so thick. I know mine doesn't even compare, and I wonder
if it ever will. I certainly can't imagine ever having that much
hair. Sure, I've got some since I started puberty, but nothing close to
what he has. It's wiry and long and jet black, just like the hair on his
head. Nestled in the middle of it I can see the head of his penis, pink and
soft, poking out away from his body. The rest of his skin is dark, even
darker around there and on his heavy looking balls. They're big too. Thick.

It's only been a second since he stripped, but I make myself stop
looking. I don't know why I like this so much, I just always have. I can't
remember a time Dad and I showered together when I wasn't boned up the
whole time. I can feel his eyes on me, but he doesn't say anything. He just
smiles, pats me on my shoulder, and steps into the steaming shower. He
holds the door open for me, and I step in next to him.

He's taller, so of course most of the water hits him first. He doesn't
waste any time, and starts rinsing his hair and face. He's turned away from
me, and I let myself look. My eyes are just level with the bottom of his
shoulder blades. His back is smooth, and the color of caramel. He doesn't
have hair back here, except on his arms and legs. His skin is so much
darker than mine. It makes sense, I think, because he's full blooded
Mexican, and I'm only half. I wish I was dark like he is.

I can see the small swell of his love handles on his hips. They're not
huge, just a little curve on the bottom of his abdomen. He's broad, in a
way that makes me realize how much I'm not. His arms are thick, and his
chest is wide. He has a tummy, but not too much. Just from the beers he has
every now and then, when we barbecue for dinner, or there's a game on. He
goes to the gym. He has the kind of body that a lot of my friends' dads
have, too. I think he looks good. God, he's so much bigger than I am. In
every way.

My eyes drift downward, lingering on Dad's butt. It's almost as exciting to
me as the front. It looks soft and smooth, and I can see it jiggle a little
as Dad shifts his weight. It's round, and sticks out. I feel the urge to
reach out for it, just to let my hand rest on it and see if it's as soft as
it looks. A stream of soapy water slips down his back, and runs down the
crack of his ass slowly. I can feel my heart racing. His arms are moving
all over the front of his body, and he spreads his legs a little. I can see
a peek of his balls between his legs as they sway between his thighs. I
tear my eyes away. As good as it feels to look, the thought of getting
caught terrifies me. I know I shouldn't look at another guy this way. I
don't know why I do anyway.

He's done washing his hair, and turns and smiles at me as he steps out of
the way for the water to spray on me. I immediately let it run over my
face, keeping my eyes closed and try to forget the image of my Dad naked,
but I can't. While I shampoo my hair he grabs a bar of soap and starts
washing his body. I watch him as he covers the front of his body with the
lather, unable to look away while he soaps his crotch. I know he's watching
me, and can see where I'm looking. I just can't stop.

"You're growing up, huh kiddo?" He asks me, and I look up to meet his
eyes. I can see him scan my body, and I know he sees my boner. His smile
doesn't so much as falter. "Looks like you're on your way to being a
teenager."

I can feel my face go beet red, and I rinse my hair to stall for time. I
have no idea what to say. I know he saw me looking. But he still doesn't
say anything about it, or about me being hard. We're naked and showering
together, so close in a cramped shower cubicle, and I'm hard and all it
would take is one second for me to reach out and touch him. I think about
it. I want to do it. I don't.

"It's okay, buddy." Dad puts his hand on my shoulder, and I keep eye
contact while he talks to me. "It happens to every guy. I mean, you know,
your..." He trails off, and I blush again. "You're at an age where
sometimes it just gets like that. I just want you to know it's nothing to
be embarrassed about."

He says that, but I'm still embarrassed. It's not my age. I just turn
around, let the water run over me for a second, and shuffle to the side so
Dad can move around me to get back in the water and rinse off.

When we finish our shower, we go our separate ways to get dressed. I linger
for just a moment to watch Dad pull on a clean pair of briefs before I go
to my room and get into my fishing clothes. Briefs first, white Hanes, like
the ones Dad wore, then t-shirt and some old jeans. I pull a jacket and a
baseball hat out of my closet, and grab socks from my dresser. I head into
the living room to find my shoes, and sit down to put the rest of my stuff
on. Dad comes out of his room just after, wearing everything but his
shoes. I notice he hasn't shaved. He finishes getting dressed, we hop in
Dad's SUV, and head out.

The drive to the lake is pretty uneventful. We stop at McDonald's for
breakfast, coffee and a sausage McMuffin for Dad, hashbrowns and orange
juice for me. We have a cooler in the trunk we packed last night full of
drinks and snacks to eat, along with all our fishing gear. The kayak is
tied to the roof, and most of the way there I watch in the side view mirror
as the ropes flap in the wind.

The view out of the passenger side window is the usual rolling California
hills I've grown up with. It takes about an hour to get to the lake, and we
don't talk much on the way. Dad plays the radio loud, Foreigner's greatest
hits. Unlike a lot of Dad's music, I actually like Foreigner. I can tell
he's happy when I nod my head to the rhythm, even though he doesn't say
anything.

We get to the lake, load everything into the kayak, and head out just as
the sun starts to come up. I can see my breath making fog while we row out
to a small island away from the parking area, a nice spot that's neatly
away from most of the beaches people like to go to. It's November, so
there's hardly anyone out but us, just a couple other people fishing in
their boats, and a few boats patrolling the lake. It takes us a while to
get to the island, and we stop a few times to cast our lines just to see if
anything bites. We're looking for trout, but no luck.

The island looks the same as it did last time we came, a few months ago
during summer break, except there's lots less people around. A shore with
rough sand, lots of trees whose roots reach out into the water, a little
bit of grass here and there. There's an old log we always set up next to
that's a tree that fell a long time ago. I can see all the algae and weeds
growing in the water as we get close to the shore, and I wonder if they're
why the water looks green in the winter.

We beach the kayak, unload some supplies, and set up a couple folding
chairs on the shore. By now, the sun is out and warming things up, but not
a ton. There's still fog lingering, and I can still see my breath. Looking
out at the lake, I can't see any other boats. It feels like it's just us.

"This is perfect," Dad says, collapsing into his chair, holding his fishing
pole between his legs while he opens the tackle box and starts fiddling
with his lure. I go into the cooler for a bottle of water, and grab him a
beer. It's early, but Dad always says that you don't have to follow all the
rules when you're fishing, so it's okay to have a beer or cuss or whatever
while we're here. I sit in my chair next to Dad's, hand him his beer, and
cast my line.

It goes pretty far out into the water, and Dad lets out a low whistle while
he gets ready to cast.

"Good shot, buddy. You're getting stronger." He casts his line out, sticks
his fishing pole in the sand, and cracks his beer. "Puberty isn't all bad,
huh?" Dad cracks a sideways smile at me and I chuckle.

"I guess. I still don't think I'm a fan though," I say quietly, the way Dad
taught me to when we're fishing. He says, if we talk too loud, we'll scare
off all the fish. Dad laughs, and I laugh with him.

"You're shooting up like a weed Jordan, soon you'll be taller than I am
probably. And in a few months you'll be a full fledged teenager! Can you
believe it? Almost thirteen years old. It feels like just yesterday your
Mom and I were bringing you home from the hospital." I can hear the hitch
in Dad's voice when he mentions Mom, and my heart skips a beat. He clears
his throat to cover it up, and takes a swig from his beer. "Actually,
that's part of the reason I wanted to bring you out here. You know, you
almost being thirteen I mean. I thought it was time we had a, uh, man to
man talk, you know what I mean?"

A fish jumps out of the water a few yards from Dad's line, and we both
gasp. We're silent for a moment, waiting to see if anything happens. When
nothing does, I take a sip of water, and lean back in my chair.

There's a knot in the pit of my stomach because of what Dad said. I always
feel like I'm in trouble when he says stuff like that, the whole "we have
to talk" thing. I turn to Dad and shrug, trying to play it off.

"You mean, about like, puberty and stuff? Like we did on my last birthday?"
I asked, my brain going a mile a minute. Was he going to bring up what
happened in the shower? God I hope not.

"Kinda," Dad said, taking another swig of beer. He's almost done with his
first can. "I guess less of a talk, and more of just, if you had any
questions about anything I wanted to make sure I answered them. Like, about
what's happening with your friends, or school, or guy stuff, or anything
like that."

"Guy stuff" was Dad's code for anything to do with puberty or sex. He said
he called it that because it's something we should only talk about when
it's just the two of us, just us guys. I blushed, and looked down at my
feet.

"I dunno, I don't think I have any questions or anything." I could feel
Dad's eyes still on me, so I looked out at where our lines were cast. Still
nothing.

"Well, how about I'll start then. How's school? It's your first year of
Junior High, is there anything you're curious about?"

I toed the sand a little, and took a deep breath. I could tell Dad wanted
to help, and he was trying really hard to be cool about it.

"School's fine I guess. My classes are okay. I just do my work, hang out
with Connor at lunch and stuff." Connor has been my best friend since
fourth grade, even though we mostly only hung out at school. Every now and
then we would sleep over at each other's houses, but we were both pretty
shy I guess. "P.E. sucks, but that's it."

Dad nodded his head sagely, and chuckled a little. "Yeah, I didn't like
P.E. much when I was your age either. All that running and stuff. I still
don't like running." Dad got up and stretched a bit, shaking out his legs
as he grabbed another beer from the cooler. "Is that all? You just don't
like P.E.?"

I shrugged. "Kinda? Some of the guys can be jerks, is all. And the locker
room is kinda weird."

Dad laughed again. "You'll get used to the locker room. Back when I was
young, they used to make us take showers after P.E. Imagine how awkward
that was!" Dad cracked open his beer and sat down, wiggling his fishing rod
a little to make the lure move.

For a moment, I tried to imagine Dad as a twelve year old, but I
couldn't. "I'm glad they don't make us shower. Just changing is bad enough
for me."

Dad patted my knee. "I'm sorry, kiddo. What if I took you to the gym with
me sometimes? If you got used to the locker room there, maybe the locker
room at school would be better. Plus I could teach you some of my secret
work out tips, the girls would be all over you!" Dad waggled his eyebrows
at me and I laughed.

"Yeah, right. I don't think girls are gonna be all over me anytime soon." I
smiled and finished off my water bottle. I checked my rod, wiggling the
lure a little.

"Of course they will! You're a good looking, strapping young man!" Dad took
another swig of beer, and I could tell it was starting to affect him. He
always got like this when he had a few beers. "You've got your Daddy's good
looks, and your Momma's smarts. You're the full package, with a full
package!" Dad waggled his eyebrows at me again and I couldn't keep myself
from bursting out laughing.

"'Full package, with a full package'?" I repeated, shaking my head. "Yeah,
right." I got up to grab another drink, and a snack. I could see Dad
frowning from the corner of my eye.

"Just what is that supposed to mean, young man? Are you calling your Daddy
a liar?"

I brought my water and some beef jerky back to my chair, offering Dad some
to snack on before I responded. The beer was definitely hitting him, I
hadn't called him "Daddy" for years.

"I'm not calling you a liar, I just don't really think I have a 'full
package,' is all. As far as I can tell, I have kind of the opposite." I
said the last part quietly, blushing. I knew I Dad said I could ask him
about "guy stuff," but this was getting embarrassing.

"Now hold on just a minute," Dad said, holding his finger up and finishing
off his second beer. He burped, and continued, "Why on earth would you
think you have the 'opposite'? Unless something's changed since this
morning, I think you're doing just fine!"

Now I was definitely blushing. "Daaaaaddddd!! You're gonna scare away all
the fish! And you weren't supposed to be looking at my... thing this
morning!"

Dad held up his finger again, and went and grabbed himself another
beer. The day was finally starting to warm up, and I could feel the sun on
the back of my neck. I was gonna have to take off my jacket soon.

"First of all, your 'thing'? You mean your dick, Jordan?" Dad sat down and
stared me in the eye. "You're almost a man now, it's time you called your
man parts a proper name. Dick, or cock, or... I dunno, rod or something." I
covered my face with my hand. It felt like all the blood in my body was
rushing to my face, I was blushing so hard. "Second of all, I know you
looked at my dick this morning, more than once. And that's fine."

Dad moved the hand I was covering my face with and held it in his. Tears
were starting to well up in my eyes, and I couldn't look him in the
eye. "Son, it's really fine. It's natural for a boy to be curious about his
Daddy. You wanna know how you stack up, and what you can expect when you
get older. Guys always look, their whole lives. Whether you're in the
shower with your Dad, or in the locker room with strangers. It's perfectly
normal to look." Dad smiled gently at me, and patted my head. "That's why
I'm not embarrassed to say, yes, I did look at your dick in the shower this
morning. And what I saw was a perfectly normal twelve year old boy, with a
perfectly normal size dick. Heck, probably bigger than normal for boys your
age. How many inches is it, exactly?"

I sniffed, and rubbed my eyes. "I-I dunno..." I said, and Dad rolled his
eyes.

"You don't? Then why did I find the ruler under your bed the other day?"

I froze, and Dad laughed.

"That's also perfectly normal, kiddo. There's not a man alive who hasn't
taken his measurements. I used to do it about every day when I was your
age, I think!"

Finally I laughed, and Dad did too. "So? What's the verdict?"

"Four and a half." I said, quietly. "In other words, not much."

"Not much?" Dad half-shouted, clapping me on the back. "Son, that's a
perfectly good size! Why would you ever think that's 'not much'?"

I was silent for a while, twiddling my thumbs, debating what to say. This
was the most open I'd ever been with anyone about anything even close to
this topic. I looked up at Dad, into his dark brown eyes, his face open and
honest and worried, and finally decided to just say it.

"You're so much bigger than me. You're taller, and stronger, and even down
there... You're big. I'm not."

Dad put his hand on my shoulder, and squeezed. "Jordan. I'm forty-three
years old. You're not even thirteen yet! Of course I'm a little bigger than
you. But I can promise you, you've got nothing to worry about. When I was
your age, I was probably the same size you are now. Heck, you might even be
bigger than I was! I wouldn't be surprised if one day you put your old man
to shame!"

I took a moment to process what my dad had said and felt... the only word I
could think of was silly. It made so much sense when he said it: of course
he was bigger, he was just older than I was. And the idea that I might one
day be bigger than my Dad was... difficult to imagine. He was huge! Easily
the biggest I had ever seen. But, the more I thought about it, the more I
realized the only time I'd ever seen a grown man's weiner was either
showering with my dad, or a few times at the pool in the locker room. And
it wasn't like I'd ever really looked that hard or anything.

Dad checked his fishing pole, and sighed. "Nothing's biting today. Will you
grab me a sandwich and another beer, buddy? I'm gonna put some fresh bait
on our lines, see if that makes any difference."

The sun was nearly directly overhead, so I guessed it was getting close to
lunch time anyway. I went into the cooler and dug around for the sandwiches
and a beer for dad. This would be his fourth, out of the six he'd
brought. It was probably for the best he have something to eat, and ease up
a little. We still had quite a few hours before we were going to leave, so
I wasn't too worried about dad sobering up before the drive home, but
better safe than sorry. I grabbed a soda for myself, and some chips for us
both. By the time I got everything together and sat back down, Dad was just
about done baiting the lines.

"Thanks, kiddo. I'm starving!" Dad took a big bite out of his sandwich, and
a swig of his beer. I smiled and followed suit, and we ate in amicable
silence, just watching the water and waiting for any sign that the fish
were out today. After we were done, and we had just spaced out for a while,
Dad slapped his leg and stood up.

"Welp, the fish aren't biting, and I've gotta take a wicked leak. Need to
use the bathroom, Jordan?"

I realized I did, and got up, nodding my head. Dad walked up to the edge of
the water, and undid his belt. I wasn't quite sure what to do, so I kind of
hung back.

"What're you waiting for kiddo, I thought you had to go too?" Dad asked,
and waved me over. This was new. Usually when we fished, if we had to pee,
we would go over to some bushes or something a little more private. From
where he was standing, anyone on the lake would be able to see Dad peeing!
I walked up next to him, kind of nervous, but in a weird way, a little
excited too.

I looked over to Dad, as he undid the button on his jeans and pulled open
his fly. He didn't use the front panel on his briefs, instead he just
tucked the waistband under his balls, letting his whole dick and balls just
hang out. After a second he grunted, and started peeing an almost clear
stream. As I copied him, opening my jeans and tucking my briefs under my
balls, I couldn't help but think about how loud Dad peeing was. It sounded
like a fire hose! It also made me have to be pee really bad, and after a
second's concentration my own stream started next to his.

Dad clapped me on the shoulder, smiling down at me. We were both still
going, and I felt a little weird, but Dad just winked and said, "Nice to be
able to do guy stuff like this, huh bud?" I smiled back at him and nodded
my head. I noticed Dad taking a peek at my dick, and I blushed. He told me
it was okay to look, did that mean I could look now? As my stream started
to die out, I took a chance and looked down at Dad's dick.

I think my heart nearly stopped. Dad's dick looked different than I had
ever seen it before. It didn't look all the way hard, but it was definitely
bigger than I had ever seen it, and sticking out horizontally from his
body. The pink tip looked fat, and so different from the dark brown skin on
his shaft. As I finished my pee, Dad kept going, and I couldn't tear my
eyes away. For a moment I looked up to his face, to see if this was okay,
and he was just watching me, looking at me look at his dick. I realized I
still had my dick in my hand, even though I stopped peeing a while ago, and
I was well on my way to getting hard. I hastily shook off and tucked myself
away, and Dad grunted.

His stream finally started to dwindle, I guess all that beer really built
up, but as I put my dick away he copied my movements, shaking his own dick
like he was trying to get the last drop of pee from it, even though he was
still going. A little pee flicked back up onto his hand, and he sighed. His
dick was definitely bigger now. It still only stuck out horizontal, but it
was thick! Dad finished his pee, smiled, and tucked himself away, patting
me on the head.

"Nothing better than a satisfying piss, huh boy?" Dad said, and I blushed.
He normally didn't talk like that. "Let's give it a few more hours and head
home. Maybe the fish were waiting for some beer to recycle before they came
out, eh?" I nodded my head, stunned mute, feeling my dick aching in my
pants. We went back to our chair, and Dad took a swig of beer. I noticed
him surreptitiously lick his hand when I was only half looking. I guess he
spilled some beer on it?

The rest of the afternoon went by slowly but easily. About an hour before
we were set to head out we get a bite on my line, and I worked my butt off
to make sure it was a catch. Dad cheered me on the whole time, getting the
net ready and wading out into the water while I reeled the fish in. When he
scooped it up he whooped with joy, and when I saw what I caught I did
too. That fish was huge! Dad said it probably weighed ten pounds! Okay,
maybe it wasn't huge, but it was sure the biggest fish I ever caught.

We didn't catch anything else, and decided to pack up and head home. Dad
put the fish in a bucket of water in the kayak while we rowed back, so it
wouldn't go bad. When we got to the dock he took it to a cleaning station
and handled all the nasty business while I packed up what I could in the
car. He put it in some plastic bags and stored it in the cooler for the
drive home, and kept saying how proud he was of me for making such a good
catch. Before we got home we stopped by the grocery store so Dad could cook
the fish for dinner.

We got home before nightfall, and Dad pulled into the garage. It was only
just past 5 pm but I was feeling pretty tired. I helped Dad unpack the car,
rinse off the kayak with the hose, as well as the bucket and anything else
the fish touched, and we headed inside. I could tell Dad was feeling pretty
tired too, but he still cooked up part of the fish I caught with a bunch of
veggies and seasoning. The rest he wrapped in paper and put in the freezer.

We had a big dinner, and by 7 pm I was full and sleepy. Dad had a few more
beers when we got home, which normally he didn't do. He said today had been
a special day, so it made sense to celebrate. Dad laughed when we cuddled
up on the couch, and I nearly fell asleep sitting up. He patted my head,
and kissed me on the cheek.

"Hey kiddo, how about we take a shower and hit the hay, huh?" Dad asked,
and I felt my heart leap.

"You mean, together? Like this morning?" I asked, trying to hide my
eagerness.

"Yeah, if you're up to it. Thought we had a really good day of father-son
bondage, you know, and that would be a good way to top it off." Dad was
slurring a little, from either the beer or sleepiness I couldn't tell, but
it made me chuckle all the same.

"Sure, that sounds cool," I said, laughing. "Also I think you meant
'father-son bonding.'"

"Right, right, right," Dad murmured, slowly getting to his
feet. "Father-son bondage is way different, huh? Probably save that for
after the shower."

I cocked my head, not quite catching his meaning, and Dad winked at me. I
followed him from the living room into his bedroom, dragging my feet on the
carpet until we were back in his bathroom. His towel from our shower this
morning was still on the floor.

I had a distinct feeling of deja-vu as dad started the shower, and got it
to the right temperature. There was a pause where we both just looked at
each other, almost expectantly, until Dad laughed and stretched his arms
over his head.

"Jordan, I dunno about you, but I feel grosser than gross right now, and
I'm dying to get in that shower. I've also had four beers since we got
home, and need a wicked piss. What say we skip past feeling awkward and
just got the show on the road, hey kiddo?"

I nodded, and Dad and I started undoing our jeans. He was moving kindly of
sloppily, and swaying a little like he was having trouble keeping his
balance as he pulled his pants off. I took a second to enjoy looking at him
in his briefs, before copying his actions. We both shed our shirt, socks,
and all the rest until we were down to just our undies.

"On three?" Dad asked, and I nodded my head. "One," he said, and we hooked
our thumbs in our waistbands, "Two," and he stepped closer to me, "Three!"
he shouted.

I slipped my briefs off, and of course my dick was hard. Dad was just
standing there, swaying a little with his hands on his hips, still in his
underwear.

"Hey! You cheated!" I yelled, covering myself up with my hands. Dad
laughed, snapping the waistband of his briefs against his tummy.

"Only a little, but yeah, I did. I'll make it up to you." Dad winked at me
again, and this time pulled his underwear off for real.

When he straightened up it was almost like the world went into slow
motion. There it was again, the thing I had seen more today than I ever had
before in my life. Dad's dick. It was like it was at the lake, not really
hard, but bigger than it usually looked. It suck out of his pubes
horizontally, thick, the head bright and pink with what looked like a
droplet of liquid at the very tip. His balls were drawn up tight to his
body, darker than the rest of his skin, covered in a thick layer of jet
black fur. They looked huge to me, like chicken's eggs. Dad's dick looked
huge too. I knew I was staring, but I couldn't help it. Maybe I was so
worked up I couldn't help myself, or maybe I was just too tired and stupid
to realize I was doing it, but I didn't stop looking until Dad nervously
scratched at his growing stubble on his jaw.

"Hey kiddo, I know you're enjoying the show, but I really gotta piss. Why
don't you hop in and I'll join you in a second."

I jumped a little, and nodded, quickly moving into the glass shower
stall. I noticed I was hard, but like, hard as a rock. It almost hurt a
little. I stuck my head into the shower spray, trying discretely to watch
as Dad padded over to the toilet. He opened the lid, putting his hands on
his hips, and let loose.

Again, I couldn't bring myself to stop watching. His stream was mostly
clear, just slightly tinged yellow, and I could hear it splashing into the
water in the toilet bowl. Dad sighed in relief, and I felt my dick
twitch. I'd never considered another guy peeing before, and now I couldn't
bring myself to look away. Dad's dick was still bigger than usual, and I
looked from his cock to mine, trying to compare them.

His was bigger, obviously, and had a lot more hair. The small tuft of pubes
I had just above the base of my cock was a sort of chocolate brown, like
the hair on my head. Dad's were jet black. His balls were heavy looking,
and like the shaft of his dick the skin was darker brown than most of his
other skin. Mine was darker too, but pink, not brown, but a similar
shape. They didn't look as heavy or full though. His shaft seemed to have a
little bit of a curve upward- mine was curved up at a similar angle. The
biggest similarity I think we had was the tip. His was a bright pink, and
so was mine. It was a sort of round, almost helmet shape, like mine. I knew
from school and some talks we'd had that we were both circumcised, and it
looked like we had our scars in similar spots. While I wasn't nearly as
thick or long as him, it looked like if my dick just sort of scaled up, it
would be a good replica of my Dad's. For some reason, that made me feel
really, really good.

Dad finished his pee, and I tried to look like I hadn't spent the whole
time watching. As he stepped into the shower with me, I thought about how
much our dicks were different in ways the rest of our bodies were too. He
was broad and thick, with heavy muscle and a soft layer of chub on top. I
was kind of skinny, but with a little bit of mass in my arms, and a layer
of "baby fat" that still wouldn't go away on my stomach. He was darker than
me, with his black hair and tan skin, I had brown hair and lighter, milky
skin. His eyes were dark brown, deep and rich like mahogany. Mine were
green, light and sharp. He had distinct, Latin features, with a strong and
heavy brow. I had a similar look, but softened just slightly, either by age
or my mixed genetics. I was jealous of his body, and wanted to look more
like him. Maybe as I grew up, I would.

Dad shampooed his hair, giving me a good look at his rear while he did, and
then helped me wash mine. He used the bar of soap to work up a good lather
on a washcloth, and handed me the bar. As I soaped up my body I watched how
Dad soaped up his, transfixed while he lingered on his armpits with all
their hair, scrubbing my chest while he scrubbed his. I started mirroring
what Dad was doing, wanting to feel what he was feeling. I'm not sure why I
did it, I just thought it would be fun. Dad caught on when he started
washing his back, and I realized I couldn't reach mine as well as he could
reach his.

Dad laughed, and told me to turn around. He scrubbed my back for me,
starting up at my shoulders, and working his way down. When he got near my
butt my dick twitched, and I held my breath. He just barely touched the top
of both of my cheeks, before pulling his hands away and saying he was
finished. I was disappointed, but excited when Dad turned around and asked
me to do him next.

My twelve year old boner had never been harder than when I took the soap
and started cleaning my Dad's back. It wasn't really overtly sexual at all,
but the idea that I was touching my Dad while he was naked and in the
shower turned me on like crazy! I mimicked what he did, starting up at his
shoulders and working my way down. The whole time I was distracted, trying
to think of what I would do when I got near his butt. His round, soft,
smooth butt that I wanted to touch so, so bad. In the end, I did what he
did, getting to just the top of his cheeks, but pulling my hands down to
remove them, so I got to touch a little more. My dick was twitching like
crazy, and I felt light headed.

When Dad turned around I noticed two things. One: his whole body was still
covered in a white, soapy lather; and two, his dick wasn't sticking out
like it was before.

If my dick had been hard before, it was nothing compared to how it felt
now. I honestly thought it was going to explode! I could feel my heartbeat
in it, could feel my dick moving and twitching with every rush of blood
through my body. Because Dad's dick was sticking up, just the way mine
was. And if I thought it had been big before, this was a whole new level of
big. It was thicker, it was longer, and it looked so, SO hard, that I
thought it must be hurting him. There was another bead of liquid at the tip
like there was before we got in the shower, and I was curious how they kept
ending up there. I figured it must just be a little extra pee and shrugged
it off.

I don't know how long I spent just looking at Dad's hard cock, but when I
looked up at his face I saw a look there I had never seen before. Dad
looked... almost like he was in pain, or hungry? It kind of scared me at
first, but then it sent a chill through my whole body, and my dick twitched
again.

"Looks like we're both gonna have some business to handle tonight before
bed, huh?" Dad asked, his voice breaking a little. He seemed nervous,
though I couldn't understand why.

"W-what?" I asked, and realized my voice was shaking.

"You know, gonna need to take care of ourselves or we'll never get to
sleep," he said, laughing breathlessly after.

"What?" I asked again, when it struck me that it wasn't my voice shaking-
it was my whole body. I was shaking like a leaf. I noticed Dad was
shivering too, even though if anything I felt like I was burning up, not
cold.

"You don't mean... We talked about masturbation. You know, when you play
with your penis and it feels good?" I could hear the tremor in Dad's voice
now, and I swayed on my feet.

"Oh. I don't... I mean, why would I need to do that? It sounds kind of
silly," I replied, cocking my head. I got a little nervous when Dad's eyes
widened, and his mouth opened into a kind of 'O' shape.

"You've never masturbated? Like, ever?" He asked. I shook my head, starting
to feel self conscious.

"Oh my god," he muttered, putting a hand over his mouth. "Oh, fuck, that's
um... I really didn't think..."

Before he could say anything else, I looked down at my aching hard dick
quizzically. "How do you play with it? Like just shake it around or
something?"

Dad looked totally stunned, and he didn't say anything for a while. By now,
the suds that had been clinging to our bodies were sliding down the drain,
and I watched as they slipped down Dad's stomach and around his dick and
balls.

"Can you do me a favor, Jordan?" Dad asked, and I looked up to meet his
eyes. I nodded my head yes.

"You have to promise me. I... remember the guy stuff we talked about
earlier? How we can only talk about that when it's just the two of us, no
one else? This is serious guy stuff. Man-to-man, only me and you can know,
okay?"

I nodded my head, but Dad shook his.

"I need you to say it, Jordan. I need you to promise." Dad's voice was
serious, in a way I'd never heard it before. I cleared my throat, and could
feel myself shaking even harder.

"I promise. Just you and me. No one else," I said, feeling like a boulder
was resting on my chest, making it harder and harder for me to breathe.

"Watch," Dad finally said, his voice low and hoarse. "Just like you were
doing a minute ago. Just do exactly what I do. I'm going to show you how to
take care of yourself the way men do. But if you ever want to stop, get
scared, or uncomfortable or anything, just say so. The last thing I want to
do is hurt you."

Dad's voice when he said that sounded broken, and my breath hitched.

"I know you'd never hurt me, Dad," I said quietly. "I want to know. I
promise I'll stop if I don't like it, but please, please I want to know."

Dad smiled down at me, in a way that looked kind of sad, before picking up
the soap bar again.

"Get a good lather going, son. You want it to feel nice and soft and
smooth. Once you have that, just watch what I do. Do it how I do, exactly,
okay?"

I nodded again, before taking the soap from Dad. He got some soap suds from
his washcloth, and started soaping his chest again. He was rubbing his
skin, slowly, and I started to do the same. The shower stall was full of
steam by this point, and all the glass was fogged up. The hiss and
sputtering of the shower head was a distant white noise in my brain, at
some point Dad must have pointed the shower head away from us because there
was no more water hitting either of our bodies. I could see Dad pressing
harder against his skin, and I did the same.

"Just take it slow, there's no rush," Dad said, his voice low and
rough. "Just feel it. Feel your skin, feel the pressure of your hands. Now
do what I do."

I nodded my head, as Dad's hands slipped lower. He was soaping up his
abdomen now, his cock hard and wet and pressing up against his navel. I
could feel mine standing the same way, and I sighed. I noticed that while I
watched Dad, he watched me, and I promised myself to put on a good show for
him.

He wasn't touching his cock, he always dodged just barely around it, so I
did the same. When Dad moved his hand lower, letting it move down into his
pubes, and I followed, he hissed and another bead of liquid appeared on his
tip.

"D-Do you need to pee again, Dad?" I asked, still copying his every move.

"No, boy, I don't need to piss. That's just my precum. I make a lot of
it. Remember, I told you about it during our last talk?" Dad's voice was
different again, deep, low, rumbling. I'd never heard him talk like that
before. For some reason it made my dick flex, and I watched his eyes widen
when he saw it.

"Are you sure? You can pee if you need to, I won't mind," I said, while Dad
slid his hand along his thigh, and I did too.

"Well now, that's a good boy there son, but Daddy doesn't need to piss
right now. What he needs is this."

As he spoke Dad moved one hand to grip the base of his cock, and
squeezed. I copied him, and immediately yelped, knees buckling. Dad made a
noise low in his throat, almost like a growling sound, and slipped his
other hand down to cup his balls.

"You're doing good son, real good. I'm not gonna last much longer, I don't
think. We'll have to have an extended lesson later."

Dad kept talking while I did my best to copy his actions, but when I cupped
my balls, my legs started shaking real bad. I noticed Dad lean back again
the shower wall, leaving an imprint with his body in the steam, so I did
the same. I slid down a little, and whimpered, trying my best to hold my
noises back and failing miserably. Nothing had ever felt like this
before. I felt like I was falling off the earth, but flying at the same
time. My dick was so hard it hurt, in the most amazing way I could
imagine. I felt like electricity was shooting through my veins, numbing the
tips of my fingers and toes, and I was vaguely aware that I was gasping and
panting in a way that echoed through the whole bathroom.

"No matter what happens, Jordan, don't close your eyes. This is the most
important part. Watch." Dad squeezed with the hand on his balls, and slid
the hand gripping his shaft up slowly. I mirrored his movements, methodical
and slow, until he slammed his hand back down his shaft with a jerk of his
arm.

 My back arched, I gasped in a short breath, and I let out an agonizing
moan as I watched Dad repeat the motion with his hand, again and again,
slowly up and jerking back down, and I felt my own hand do exactly the
same. My eyes wanted so badly to flutter shut but I didn't let them, and
Dad sped up, working into a fast, torturous rhythm that I copied.

Dad stepped forward, movements jerky and unstable, the muscles in his arms
flexing and bulging as he stroked himself. He crowded into me, standing an
inch or two from touching me, leaning his forearm against the shower wall
and resting his forehead on it, staring intently at the hand working my
shaft. It was too much for me, and all at once I felt surrounded, I could
see Dad's cock so big and so close to me, leaking clear fluid out the tip,
and my hips bucked violently into my hand.

I felt like the floor fell out from under me. I was suddenly not in control
anymore, and as I mirrored what Dad did I felt something sudden and massive
rip its way through me. Every nerve of my body was on fire, I felt my dick
flex and pulse, my muscles contract, and a loud, sobbing whimper tore its
way out of my throat. I kept bucking into my hand, fucking my fist, and
just as I reached my peak, Dad growled in my ear,

"Watch," and with a final stroke white ropes shot out of Dad's aching cock,
arcing high into the air- and I watched every moment, not daring to close
my eyes even to blink. The first shot hit the wall behind my shoulder, the
second my face, the rest coating me in waves of heat, again and again, too
many to count. Dad growled and grunted, his face inches from mine, gasping
and cursing over and over.

As I recovered, slowly coming back to my senses, Dad leaned his face into
mine, our lips crashing together, a string of his cum caught between
them. I felt something warm and wet invade my mouth, and with a gasp I
realized it was Dad's tongue. I could taste something musky, almost bitter,
but sweet at the same time, and I tried my best to use my inexperienced
tongue for my first real kiss. Dad's stubble scraped against my chin, and I
moaned, eyes finally fluttering shut. All too soon he was gasping and
pulling back, cursing under his breath.

"Let's get you cleaned off, boy," he murmured, moving the shower head so
that it sprayed over my covered body. "I think it's best if you sleep in my
bed tonight."

I was too much a post-orgasmic mess to argue, letting Dad move me like a
rag doll and clean me up while my brain fought to catch up with what had
just happened. Dad had showed me masturbating, had showed me how to
masturbate, and something happened that I couldn't explain.

I had seen Dad, my Dad, naked and hard and touching himself. He had talked
to me, ordered me around, shot what I was pretty sure was his sperm on me,
and kissed me. Dad had kissed me! With tongues! Jesus!!

And here he was, still naked, cock fat and leaking and slowly going back to
normal size. I think Dad orgasmed. I think maybe I orgasmed too. Dad had
told me about it, had given me books that talked about it, but I had never
thought it could be like that. I never thought anything could be like
that. Was that what the boys at school talked about all the time? No
wonder! That was AWESOME!!!

Dad shut off the shower, and stepped out while I stood dumbfounded in the
stall. He came back with a towel and started drying me off, rubbing the
soft, fluffy cotton all over me, while I hardly moved. I was stuck in a
fog, exhausted, and my brain had basically left the building. It took me a
long while to realize Dad had this look on his face, all scrunched up, brow
furrowed and lips turned down in a frown. When he finished drying me off he
tiled my chin up, making me meet his eyes.

"I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have- I didn't mean... Are you okay?" Dad
asked, and I was sure I had the stupidest grin on my face when I said,

"FUCK yeah! That was the BEST!!!"

Dad broke out laughing, doubling over, and I did too, the both of us still
naked in the middle of the bathroom laughing our brains out.

"My god, boy," Dad said, wiping tears from his eyes. "You scared the life
out of me for a minute! I thought I broke you or something!" I couldn't
stop my giggling, and Dad chuckled for a good while too, shaking his head
and watching me.

I couldn't think of anything I could say, so instead I flung myself at Dad,
hugging him as tight as I could. I could feel our naked bodies pressing
close together as I squeezed him with all my might, burying my face in his
chest.

"I love you," was all that came out when I tried to talk, and I heard Dad
sigh out a long, deep breath.

"I love you too, boy. Why don't you go ahead and climb into my bed, I'll go
get you some PJs from your room and help you into them. I think what we
both need right now is some sleep, and talk in the morning. Deal?"

"Deal," I said, fumbling my way into Dad's room, and climbing into his big,
soft bed. Dad left for a minute, and I laid my head on one of his
pillows. The next thing I knew he was back, helping me pull a pair of
briefs up my legs. He helped me into one of my oversized t-shirts, kissed
me on the forehead, and went to his dresser for his own underwear before
crawling into bed next to me.

Dad cuddled up behind me, holding me tight at my waist while I laid on my
side.

"I love you, son," he whispered in my ear.

"I love you too, Dad," I whispered back, and fell deeply asleep.

To be continued...