Date: Tue, 06 Jan 2004 16:12:02 -0500
From: Eric L <dad_peter_story@hotmail.com>
Subject: I WANTED MY DAD - Chapter 1

I WANTED MY DAD - Chapter 1                   ***ADULT FICTION***
A story of male-male ('gay') sex and incest, about Peter and his Dad.
by Eric L.     Email, send to Eric:
dad_peter_story@hotmail.com

THIS STORY IS ENTIRELY UNTRUE AND FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY.
It does not represent my actions or anyone else's.  I claim a right
to have fantasies that I never did and will never do, and to have
fun with them and share them with others like-minded, for
entertaining reading and feedback.   --Eric L.

NOTE:  Peter's age will move from 8 to 10 to 12, 13+ etc.
_________________________________________________________________

I WANTED MY DAD - Chapter 1    *IF UNDER LEGAL AGE, DO NOT READ!*
___________________________     ````````````````````````````````

      I was six when I first noticed the weird feeling I got in
my stomach when dad gave me a bath.  Well, I thought it was my
stomach, but the funny feeling went lower down.  When we touched
each other and did things, it wasn't like people say--dad never
grabbed me or shoved me or anything.  My dad loves me.

My dad has a perfect build.  He looks real good.  He's blond and
tan and has bits of hair all over--not tons like some dads, just
the right amount.  Some places he's got no hair, and you can see
his muscles real good.  He's built, but not heavy like a football
player.  I get tight in the lower half of me when he strips down
and I see the bulges in his arms, his chest, his dick, and the
muscles in his legs.  His feet look like they have muscles, too.

I wanted to tell him the feeling I got when I looked at him.  I
wanted to tell him there was something that made me feel really
happy all over, but I was scared, and besides I didn't know what
words to use.  I didn't know if there were any words that would
mean what I wanted to say.  But I always told him I loved him.  I
guess that was good enough.  I knew that was true.

I never heard anyone at school say they felt this way about their
dad, so right away I thought I was the only one.  And that meant
I shouldn't tell anybody about how I felt I wanted to touch my
dad, and hug him all over, and stuff like that.  I loved when he
touched me.

When I look in his eyes and he smiles, I know he's going to hug
me and say things.

"Hey, Peter!  Do you know what?" he would say, hugging me, and
his voice sounded so good I felt it in my bones.

"What?" I said, giggling.

"You're the best, most special boy in the world!"

"Really, daddy?  In the WHOLE world?"

"Yes!  Maybe in the UNIVERSE, even."

I didn't know what 'universe' meant, for sure, but it sounded
really good to me.  Then he would hug me more.  First I could
feel his warm breath when he talked.  "Yes, son, I love you so
much, Peter!"  Then I felt his whiskers when his face touched me.

Then mom died, and we were sad, and dad acted different for a
long time.  I don't remember too much about how things were then,
not even getting baths.  But when I was around eight, I remember
my dad gave me baths again.  The warm water and his big hands
felt so good.

"Daddy?  Why don't you get in the tub, too?" I asked him one day.
And he DID!

"How's that, Petey?" he said with a silly smile, after he climbed
in.

I really laughed because my dad was all folded up in the bathtub
--it was too small for him.  But I was excited with dad all naked
and in the tub with me.  I saw his face with a hurt look, but I
knew it was a fake one.

"Pete--why are you laughing at me?  I'm your dad, remember?"

"No, I FORGOT!" I said, then I laughed really hard.  "You look
funny, dad."

"Funny?"

"Yeah.  You don't FIT in here."

"Oh.  You're right!  That's why--"

"I KNOW!  That's why you take a shower, right?"

"Right, son.  See how smart you are?"

"It's because you're so BIG."

"You're smart because I'm BIG?" daddy said, making me laugh so
hard.

"No, dad!  You can't fit in the tub because you're big."

Then daddy gave me a huge smile.  He kneeled so he would fit
better.  That meant I could see more of him and I liked that.  I
loved when he touched my dick to wash it, because it felt so good
there.  But I was afraid he would stop doing that if I said
anything, so I kept quiet about how nice it felt.

He always told me it was a dickie, but now that I was 8 years old
and more grown up, he told me dick was a more grown-up word.

That day, when he washed my legs and then my dick, I touched
dad's dick, and he didn't say anything.  I guess because he was
touching me, it was ok to touch him there, because if two people
both do the same thing, then it's fair.  I only touched him for a
second, but after, I wished I'd done it longer.

I was hoping daddy would say how good it felt when I touched him
there, but he didn't.  Then I thought maybe it only feels good to
ME.  So that was two things, maybe, that I was the only one who
felt that way.

The next bath, I was thinking maybe I just didn't touch dad long
enough.  After all, he's so big.  Then I thought maybe I'm not
strong enough to touch it hard, so he can feel it.  But I was
going to try.

This time, dad got in the tub first.

"Come on, Peter, in you go," he said, as he lifted me up and into
the tub.

"I can get in by myself, dad."

"I know," he said with a big grin, "I just wanted to do that."

"Why?"

"Because I love you."

"Why?" I asked, giggling, knowing I was playing the 'why' game,
and that made daddy say and do some really weird things.

"Because you're my son."

"Why?"

"Because you're such a good, happy boy!"

"Why?"

"Because you're my Petey boy, and you're so cute and sex--
sensational!"

"You think I'm cute, dad?"

"Well, more handsome, I meant.  You'll be a very handsome big boy
when you grow a little more."

"I'm not handsome now?"

"No--I didn't mean it that way.  It's . . . oh man!  You're more
LITTLE than big, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, when you're little and good-looking, you're cute.  When
you're bigger and good looking, you're handsome."

"Oh."  When I said 'Oh,' then the game was over.  At least,
that's the way it happened most times.  Then dad helped me up.

"Petey, now you know that only men, but all men, have dickies,
right?"

"You told me dick was a better word."

"Ok, but you know that, right?"

"Yeah," I said, then he touched mine.  So, I touched his.  Then I
got brave and asked him.  "That's ok, right dad?"

"Well--yeah, Peter, that's fine."

"I think it's growing, dad."

"Well, son, that's part of your sex education, and I thought
today--"

"No, not that again, dad.  That's boring."

"Ok, Peter, I'll try to make it more interesting," he said, then
he wasn't just touching it--he held my dick in his whole hand.
That was fair--I had my hand on his, too.

Then daddy rubbed mine a little.

"See how that feels good, Pete?" he said, making me wiggle.

"Yeah!  It's ok if it feels that way?"  I finally asked him!

"Of course, son.  Mine feels that way now."

"Daddy, yours is growing MORE, I think."

"Look at yours, Peter."

"Oh yeah.  Wow!"  Mine got big, too.

"Well, what do you think?"

"It feels good when you touch it, but mine feels weird, big.  I
think small is better."

"I see," dad said, with a funny look on his face.

Then I rubbed his a whole lot more, and it got really big.  "Wow,
dad."

"Actually, Peter, to me, it feels better when it's all big like
you made it."

"I made it that way?"

"Sure," he said with a smile, "Rubbing your dick will always make
it bigger and hard."

"But I'm rubbing YOUR dick," I said.

"Smart-ass!  I see that smile."

Then I just giggled.  "How did I make it bigger?"  Dad's face was
really red.

"Well, um, touching and rubbing Petey, that makes it big and
hard, like I said, and . . . that's called an erection."

"Okay."

"You see this?" dad said, pointing to his balls.

"Yeah.  I KNOW!  It's balls.  I have that, too."

"Yes, that's right.  Those are balls, but the real name is--"

Daddy stopped.

"Petey, I guess that's enough for today."

Then we stopped touching each other, but it was so good.

"Ok, dad."

"That's my good boy," dad said smiling.

dad_peter_story@hotmail.com
CHAPTER END:  I WANTED MY DAD - Chapter 1 (of lots, I hope)

THIS STORY IS THE RESULT OF 2 EMAILS THAT A READER SENT TO ME,
SAYING IT MIGHT BE NICE TO HAVE A DAD-SON STORY, SEEN FROM THE
BOY'S VIEWPOINT.  WELL, I AGREED WITH HIM.  :-)

I really hope you like the story so far, and you write to me,
(even though this is only a start).  THANK YOU for reading.

I try not to open SPAM, whenever possible, so please let me know
your email is NOT spam by putting "PETER STORY" or "WANTED DAD"
in your subject line.  If you are expecting me to answer your
email and you get no reply, it's likely because you forgot to put
one of those phrases, or something very similar, in your subject
line.

You can say anything you want--about the story or not.  I'll read
your message carefully, short or long, and respond to you in
kind.  Long is nice.  (Email, I mean.)  You can ask stuff, too.

If you have a criticism about the story, please say what it is,
and then how you'd like me to fix the situation.  If you praise
something, it would mean a lot to me to know why you liked that.
   --Eric

Please write to Eric at:

dad_peter_story@hotmail.com

(Your suggestions for chapter 2, or any suggestions you have in
general, are also welcome.  You mustn't think I'm just looking
for suggestions.  Anything you say, I'm interested to hear.)

[There are more NOTES, but they're at the end of Chapter 1 of
my other story:  "MY SON'S SEXUALITY"]

I WANTED MY DAD - Chapter 1