Date: Wed, 4 May 2005 13:40:01 EDT
From: Tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject "I Want a Little Brother"

			  I WANT A LITTLE BROTHER
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
			WWW.TOMMYHAWKSROGUEMOON.COM

     Jesse tossed about fitfully on the guest bed. Fuck, this was his own
house! Why did his bitch wife get to keep the bed he had slept in since
before he'd known her? Why wasn't SHE in this Godawful bed!
     Not that the bed wasn't comfortable...but it missed that certain
something that lets a man relax and sleep, that vague odor of the sweat of
past nights, the springs that have bent themselves to his body and know
just how much to give, and where, to let his sleep be an uninterrupted
symphony of delightful dreams and somnolent silence, a safe haven from all
the troubles of the world.
     But this bed was a stranger to his body, he was lying upon mattresses
that didn't know him, that treated him as an outsider, as a foreigner, as
an interloper! Shit! What a helluva note, being kicked out of his own
damned bed!
     He kicked off his covers. They felt worse than nothing at all upon
him. That left him naked on the bed, but hell, who was to care? God knows
his wife didn't care any longer, and his son was off in his own bedroom,
who was to see him lying in bed naked, scratching his hairy nipples,
rubbing his hairy balls...shit, he was getting horny! Time to resort to
Miss Rosy Palm and her five sisters, jeez, when was the last time he'd had
to do that? Oh, he'd jerked off from time to time all through his marriage,
but that was more choice than necessity, until tonight! Now it was stroke
it or do without...and who the fuck wants to do without?
     He wrapped his work-worn hands around his sturdy tool and began to
pump it up, his prod making a huge, proud arc above his body, God, it felt
so good, no wonder he had jerked all through his marriage, with a wife who
only wanted it once a week...if then! His hand was loving him the way his
wife never did, making long, tight strokes up and down from the bulging
balls up to the plum-shaped head and...
     "Daddy?" came a sleepy sound from the doorway.
     "Huh? Oh, fuck!" Jesse groaned and fumbled for the bedcover. "What are
you doing up?" he snarled as he managed to pitch a pitifully small corner
over his body, acted like that was all he'd meant to do.
     "I heard something." Carl said. Carl was his son, seven years old and
at that age where he was curious about everything and anything. His litany
of questions like "why is the sky blue?" and "where do the clouds come
from?" were only the tip of his curiosity about the sky alone, and it
extended to everything!
     "What'd you hear?" Jesse asked.
     "Sort of a moaning and a sort of a creaking." Carl said. "And I saw
you with your hand going up and down and up and down, really fast."
     Yep, he'd caught his dad whacking off. Jesse grimaced. Now the
questions would start...
     "What were you doing in here, Daddy?"
     ...and they wouldn't stop for...
     "Why were you making that noise?"
     ...anything he could possibly say to Carl...
     "Did you hurt yourself, Daddy?"
     ...except maybe. "No, Son, I wasn't hurting myself."
     "Then what were you doing?"
     "I was...." What the hell could he say to a seven-year-old that
wouldn't either gross him out or provide him with way too much information?
"I was doing what Daddies do to make babies."
     "Babies?" That got all of Carl's attention. "Is that how you make
babies, doing that?"
     "Uh, no. Let's just say I was practicing my part in making the
babies." Jesse said. "It takes two to make actual babies."
     "Yeah?" Carl said. "What were you doing? Can I see it? How do you do
it? How does it work?"
     God, better answer the kid's questions, before he started making them
up for himself. Once Carl got an idea into his head, getting rid of it was
damned near impossible. It was what kept him answering those damned
questions! The alternative was even worse!
     "Well, Son." he took a deep breath. "When you grow up and your body
goes through the changes," he had discussed those changes with Carl
already, thank God, "one of them is that your, uh, organ between your legs
gets bigger. And sometimes, it gets all hard and stiff, like mine is." No
need to hide that, the covers were tented out still; when he got a hard-on,
it was on for the duration, he had never figured out how to get rid of it
short of whacking it! "And when I stroke it like this enough, some stuff
comes out. And that stuff is what makes babies."
     "Did I come out of that stuff in your peter?" Carl said,
wide-eyed. "Coo-oo-ool!"
     "Yep, you came right out of here." Jesse said.
     "So, why did you say you were practicing?" Carl asked.
     "Because I can't make a baby all alone." Jesse said. "It takes
help. That's where your mother comes in." (Came in, damn her eyes! No more
of that for him, he'd be lucky if he was allowed to stay in the same house
after tonight!)
     "So what does she do?"
     "She...catches the stuff and stores it inside her." Jesse said. "And
after a while, it makes a baby." There, that was a really simplified
version of making babies. He hoped it was enough to stop Carl's questions,
but not so much that Carl would want to go around trumpeting his new
knowledge to all and sundry. A balance between information and ignorance,
that's what it took with a seven-year-old boy's questions. Time enough
later for him to learn the rest of it.
     "Dad?" came Carl's voice.
     Oh, God, more questions. "What is it, Son? I need to get some sleep
and so do you."
     "Could I sleep with you in here?"
     "Why? Did you have another nightmare?"
     "Uh-huh." Carl admitted. "The Green Man."
     "Oh." that was one of Carl's nightmare things. He could handle this
two ways, either by a long talk about how the Green Man didn't really
exist. So far, his success rate on that was at about 30%, with the rest of
the time Carl having a repetition of the same dream, only worse. The other
way to handle it was successful 100% of the time. "Okay, Son, crawl on
in. You can sleep with me tonight. Or would you rather sleep with your
mother? More room in her bed." A hopeful note.
     "Nu-uh, Daddy, I want to sleep with you."
     "All right." Jesse sighed. "Crawl on in here."
     He threw back the covers and Carl giggled. "You're not wearing your
undies, Daddy."
     "Naw, I never do." Jesse said. "You never noticed that when you'd get
into bed with Mommy and me?"
     "Uh-uh. Can I sleep without my undies, too?"
     "Okay." Jesse said. "Just quit with the questions and let's both try
to get some sleep tonight." Maybe with Carl snuggled up to him, he could
manage to feel a little more at home in this unfriendly guest room
bed. Sleeping with Carl was an uncomfortable thing, but it was at least
familiar.
     Carl got into bed and snuggled up, one little legs lying atop one of
Jesse's larger, hairier one, one small arm on his Daddy's chest.
     A moment of silence, in which Jesse thought he might actually get some
sleep (he couldn't whack off now, so sleep was his only option), then came
that small, almost whining voice. "Daddy?"
     "What?" Jesse moaned. "What now? Get to sleep."
     "Daddy? I want a little brother."
     "Huh?"
     "You said you were practicing making babies. Well, can you do it
again, make me a little brother?"
     "Not without help." Jesse said. "And it doesn't look like that'll
happen soon. Mommy has decided that I should sleep in here from now on. And
without your Mommy's help, there's no way for me to make you a little
brother."
     "I'll help you." Carl volunteered.
     "Huh?"
     "I'll help you make me a little brother." Carl said. And his hand,
that soft little hand, came down and grabbed hold of his Daddy's cock!
     Jesse gasped! Aw, shit! He had the whole damned erection back all over
again! And it was throbbing right in his son's palm!
     And Carl wrapped his fingers around it tight and began to pull up and
down on it. "You did it like this, right, Daddy?"
     "Oooh, uh, uh, yeah!" Jesse gasped out. "Like that."
     "Am I doing it fast enough for you?" Carl's young hand was bobbing
back and forth rapidly, all the energy and vigor of youth pouring out of
him into that hand, that arm, all of it yanking his Daddy's pud like it had
never been yanked before! Shit, this kid was a natural, he was pumping
Jesse's dick better'n Jesse had ever done it!
     "Ooh, oh, uh, huh, yeah, baby, that's fast enough for me. Oohh!"
     "And this will make a little brother for me, Daddy? Will it make a
little brother for me?"
     "Oh, yeah, baby, a little brother for you!" Jesse didn't care about
truth or anything else just now, anything it took, anything he had to say
to keep that boy-hand pounding at his cock, he'd say it, God, anything!
"Just keep pumping it for me, baby, and I'll whip up a little brother for
you in no time, if that's what you want!"
     "I want a little brother, Daddy!"
     "Yes, Baby!"
     "I want a little brother a whole lot."
     "Okay, Baby! Oh, oh, uh!"
     "Give me a little brother, Daddy!"
     "Yeah, Baby, yeah!"
     "I want my little brother, Daddy!"
     "Yeah, oh, oh, God, oh!"
     "Give me my little brother, Daddy!"
     "Oh, God, oh, uh, UH, UHHH, UHHH!"
     "Are you going to give me my little brother now, Daddy?"
     "OH, YEAHH, UHHHHHH, YEAHHHHH!" And that was to the accompaniment of
the biggest fucking climax he'd ever had. He was squirting his jism up and
out, hard and thick, and the ropy, white streams of his ejaculation poured
over his stomach.
     "Wow, oh, wow, Daddy!" Carl was as excited as Jesse, in his own
way. "Give me that little brother, Daddy, give him to me!"
     "Oh, baby, oh, baby, oh, son, son, oooohhhhhh!" Jesse sagged back onto
the bed again, sweat pouring off of him, his body coated with glistening
wads of pearl-colored come.
     As Jesse caught his breath, he heard a disappointed sound from his
son. "Daddy?"
     "Yeah, Son?" Jesse gasped tiredly.
     "Did I do it right? Did I help you make a little brother?"
     "Oh, oh, yeah, Son, you did it right. You did it more than right, you
did it perfect, my own little boy." Jesse said fondly and reached a
trembling hand up to rumple his boy's hair.
     But that didn't satisfy Carl. "So where's my little brother?" Carl
said with some disdain. "All I see is this white stuff, and it smells
funny."
     Oh, jeez, he'd been so damned turned on, he had gotten lost in his
pleasure and lied to Carl. He couldn't do that! "Well, Son." he said. "You
see, it takes more than me shooting out this stuff to make a baby brother
or sister for you."
     "Oh, yeah, it has to go inside." Carl said with the delight of
comprehension. "I'll take care of it, Daddy." And Carl began to scarf up
with big, eager slurping sounds, all the puddles of jizz on Carl's stomach
and chest.
     "Oh, baby, oh, baby!" Jesse moaned. "That feels good, baby!" And it
did, the cleaning up of his body. When he shot on himself with Carl's
mother, the bitch would just sniff and maybe she'd fetch him a
washrag. Sometimes she just turned over and made him go get it himself. But
she never did this, never lapped up like a hungry dog the come off of his
body the way his little boy was doing! "Baby, you're better at this than
your mother ever was." He said sincerely.
     Carl licked up the last of his Daddy's come and looked up, said,
"Okay, I got all of it. Now what happens?"
     "Well, now," Jesse said, inspiration striking him...or was that raw
self-interest? "You see, son, it doesn't always work the first
time. Sometimes to make a little brother or sister for you, it takes me
trying a whole lot of times."
     "So I need to keep helping you pump that stuff out of your peter?"
Carl asked.
     "That's right, son." Jesse said. "You just never know when it's going
to work and you get to make a baby out of it. Lots and lots and lots of
time, nothing happens at all."
     "I see." Carl said.
     "So, Son, if you don't keep working at it, night after night, you
won't get a baby brother out of my, uh, peter." Jesse concluded. "It takes
a lot of trying. It depends on how much you want a baby brother."
     "Oh, I want a little brother a whole lot!" Carl said. "A whole, whole
bunch. So Daddy, I'm going to help you ever single night until I make a
little brother."
     Jesse grinned and rumpled his son's hair again. "I'm betting if anyone
can do it." he said with all sincerity. "You'll be the one to do it. Now,
can you let your old Daddy get some sleep? If I get enough rest, you can
try again in the morning before I go to work."
     "Okay, Daddy." Carl said. "Night."
     "Good night, Son." Jesse said. And when he closed his eyes, he found
sleep easy and within reach. Maybe this old guest room bed could make a
safe haven for his tired body after all. All it took was an eager young boy
to take his mother's place and keep him satisfied.
     He just hoped Carl didn't think to ask those questions of anybody else
very soon! Or he might find himself having some competition for the
privilege of giving Carl a little brother!

				  THE END
		   Comments, complaints or suggestions?
		  E-mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
			WWW.TOMMYHAWKSROGUEMOON.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM