Date: Wed, 22 Oct 2008 05:03:36 -0700 (PDT)
From: tague michaels <tagmichaels@gmail.com>
Subject: Instructing My Son

A story about a man and his preteen son, it contains some scenes of sex
between man and boy. If you shouldn't be here, go now or suffer the
logical consequences.

Hugs,
Tag_m


"Okay, stand straight, arms relaxed at your side," I said to the fourteen
year old hottie whose feet I was at. I held a measuring tape at his ankle
then up against the bottom of the bulge in his white cotton briefs,
pushing slightly while I took my time measuring his inseam. The boy
giggled a little at the intrusion but didn't say anything as I bumped up
against his boy stuff a couple of times, and what respectable boy stuff
it appeared to be. Then I measured his waist, reveling in the fact I was
eye level with a terrific belly as well as face to face with his boyhood
bulge and that seemed to be moving slightly. I quickly finished since the
boy's mother was waiting for him and left the fitting room so he could
dress.

I loved boys. It's a big part of the reason why I stayed in type of job I
was in. I'd started as a clerk in the men's department of a large
department store. It was a fairly easy way to help with college and
worked my way up to manager of a more exclusive men and boy's store,
dropping out of college in the process. In any case I loved boys and I
thought that they were about the coolest thing on the planet. I loved
everything about them, how they looked, acted, talked, rough housed,
smelled, felt. Hell, what else can I say? Because of my job I'd seen
plenty of boys in various stages of undress, often clad only in
underwear, as well as fully naked and that more frequently that one might
guess.

I'd had the good fortune to actually engage in masturbation or oral sex
with a boy every now and again. Sometimes it was helping a boy unload his
young sperm out onto the floor of my fitting room or pumping that young
sperm into my mouth. More than a few times it was done in front of a full
length mirror so the boy and I could both watch what was happening to
him.

Despite my love of boys, at no time did I ever think of, or have the
desire to have any kind of, sexual contact with my own son. In fact until
we moved I hadn't seen London naked for two, maybe three years, the boy
having been able to take his baths by himself for far longer than that.
But it was time to step him up to a shower.

Twelve years old was the age that my wife had decreed was an appropriate
and safe age for a child to shower alone. She came to that decision after
the ten year old daughter of a friend of hers had slipped in the shower,
fallen through the shower curtain and smashed her head against the sink
and eventually died. It had been a freak accident but no way was
Caroline, London's mother and my wife, going to take that chance with our
boy. But my wife was no longer there to enforce that rule and besides I
no longer used the old, slippery surfaced, claw footed tub that had
graced the bathroom in renovated loft that we'd lived in.

When Caroline had gotten her new job we had upped our life insurance
policies to almost half a million dollars. We had also taken out AD&D
since it was practical, only pennies per month, so we each had an
additional two hundred thou on our measly little lives. Caroline had
accepted a new position as a vice principal at an elementary school that
was located in a less than stellar neighborhood. The insurance was only a
precaution she'd said. Turned out it was a very good precaution as she'd
been gunned down along with two other people in a drive by as she walked
from the bus stop, her car was in the shop, to the school one morning two
days before Spring break and just about a year to the day after she'd
started. Of course no one was ever caught.

I was saddened by the loss of my wife but not grief stricken. Caroline
had issues, some very deep ones left over from a not very pleasant
childhood. Among other things she had been very controlling, our son's
restriction from the shower only a small example and anal retentive
nature that even she found oppressive at times.  She had also put on a
great deal of weight in the four years prior to her death and had
ballooned up to slightly over three hundred pounds almost twice her
weight when we had married. She wasn't pleasant to be around, she wasn't
pleasant to look at and frankly I had been considering leaving her but
couldn't be assured that I'd get custody of London.

As I said, I loved boys and I adored my son. London was a great kid, the
light of my life. He had a fairly laid back personality which he got from
me, a good sense of humor for a child, his mother's intelligence. His
almost beautiful looks were a combination from the both of us, his mother
being a rather pretty woman before she metamorphosised into a blimp. I
still maintained the weight I was when I was in college, perfect for my
five foot eight frame, and my face and complexion remained that of a
young man ten years younger than me.

London seemed to have the same feelings that I had over his mother's
death. He was saddened, especially by the violence of her passing, but he
wasn't grief stricken by any means. The year before she was killed had
been difficult for him as she'd been on his ass quite a bit and little I
did seemed to curb what seemed to be a bitterness that Caroline harbored
against life. Fortunately her behavior hadn't stifled my son's
personality, only made it go underground when his mother had been around.
At almost eleven years and twenty nine years old respectively London and
I were buddies, pals and confidantes.

Maybe that had been part of the problem, the fact that my son and I had
always been close whereas the closeness that he and his mother had shared
when he was small had deteriorated, encouraging his and my relationship
to become even closer.

London had never cared much for the loft that we'd called home for his
entire life. It never seemed to be real warm, it was rather dark and
gloomy and his room wasn't much larger than a walk-in closet. Caroline
and I had talked about selling it but those conversations were mostly one
sided, my side. She'd loved the place and couldn't see, or refused to,
that with London growing up it wasn't practical anymore. Within 48 hours
of her death I put the place up for sale at almost three times what she'd
paid for it prior to our getting married.

I was very fortunate when I unloaded the condo in that I had four or five
parties vying for it so it ended up selling in less than a week for just
about 18% more that I'd listed it for. Despite the fact that I hadn't
cared much for it, Caroline's purchase of the condo had been a very smart
move. A newly renovated building in an up and coming restored part of
town it was now in a very desirable building at the center of the most
desirable area in the city. We, I, did very well on the turnover.

The insurance companies of course dragged their heels, especially the one
holding the AD&D policy. In any case, the day the condo sold I started
looking for another place but not to buy, only to rent. The goal was to
wait until all of my funds were clear; the house, the insurance and my
wife's retirement fund which netted another 38K or so. I was considering
moving to another state, some place warmer all year round and where I
could finish school and get my degree in retail management, a pursuit
that had fallen by the wayside because her Masters degree had taken
priority.

London started sleeping with me the first night of his mother's death. It
was as much for comfort and company as the fact that his room was small
and rather dreary. There was some comfort for me as well for he would
cuddle up with me in the night, something that his mother hadn't done for
years and, honestly, hadn't encouraged. There was something very
comforting in holding my son while he slept and more than once I felt
tears well up in my eyes at the pride and wonder that I had of him.

So, I found a small, two bedroom one bathroom house on a month to month
lease. It had a nice little fenced yard in a quiet neighborhood about
twenty minutes from work. London had to change schools but that didn't
seem to pose a problem for him. He hadn't particularly liked the school
he'd been in and since the new school was only five blocks away he
wouldn't have to take a bus.

I took a leave of absence from work to do all of the settling things;
Caroline's estate, sale of the condo and moving into the new house and
getting London adjusted to a new neighborhood and school. I had
considered dumping most of the furniture but decided to wait until I'd
decided where we were going to move. I had no truck and few friends I
could count on to help so hired a moving company to do that job. Overall
there was a couple of days lag between the move out and the move in so
London and I stayed in a hotel which he thought was just about the best
thing he'd ever gotten to do in his life. To top it off we were in DC.
London was crazy over anthropology so I decided to take him to the
Smithsonian since we had the time. It was there that things started to
change, at the hotel that is and not the Smithsonian.

On first seeing our room London was excited about the two queen sized
beds. "Can I have my own bed dad?" he asked. The sound of his voice was
like music to my ears; that sweet, pure, innocent sound of a preteen boy.

"Of course you can son," I responded. He hugged me tightly and said
thanks a bundle and we left for dinner. Before he crawled into bed he
came over and stood in front of where I sitting at the end my bed.
Dressed only in white cotton briefs I'd been admiring his body as he got
ready for bed; undressing, nicely folding his jeans and t-shirt then
going about turning down his bed covers and gathering his pillows all in
one pile.

London was probably normal for his age; a shade or two under five feet
tall and maybe eighty five to ninety pounds. Like me he had a well
balanced physic with all the creases and bulges in all the right places.
That is, well defined. His body was seemed compact, flat from below his
pecs to his hips where his pubic bone narrowed and curved into the red
lined waistband of his underwear. A view of his backside revealed a slim
boyish butt, the twin globes pushing away ever so slightly from his lower
back. As I'd watched him I wondered about getting him some new underwear
as the ones he was wearing seemed a little tighter than they should be.
When he stood in front of me I couldn't help but notice that the bulge of
his boyhood charms seemed a little large for his age. Remember, I'd seen
plenty of boys in underwear over the past fourteen years although I
hadn't seen that much of London in his underwear.

Another one of his mother's directives had been that he not parade around
the house scantily clad. Bathrobe, sport shorts, bathing suit; all were
fine but not underwear. Go figure. I dropped that decree the first night
he slept with me because he asked about it. London and I had discussions
about it before but it was easier on both of us to let his mother have
her way in the matter.

"Can I just wear underwear sometimes when we're alone in the house dad?"
I knew exactly what he was asking and by way of an answer had unsnapped
my slacks and dropped them to the floor.

"Absolutely." He had literally jumped for joy and immediately peeled his
jeans off right there. After that it wasn't like he stripped his clothes
off the second he came home but he didn't have to worry about it either.
In fact we both became more lax in that regard.

So he stood in front of me in the hotel room and said, "Are you gonna be
sad if I don't sleep in your bed." I shook my head.

"Of course not son," I answered and I wasn't lying about it. He moved in
between my legs and leaned up against my upper body, his arms around my
neck.

"I love you dad," he whispered in my ear. I'd wrapped my arms around his
body, one hand holding him and the other rubbing up and down his back,
stopping at his underwear. I was acutely aware of his warmth and the
softness of his skin.

"I love you too London," I whispered back, kept holding him for a ten
count then patted him on the butt and started to move away. He wouldn't
let go but instead pushed his weight against me. He also lifted his leg
and put his knee on the mattress right up next to my crotch and between
the two movements I went backwards onto the mattress with London lying on
top of me. His knee caught me lightly in the balls and I let out an
"oomph."

"I'm sorry dad did I hurt you in your balls?" my son asked, his entire
body now flat against mine and our faces less than a foot apart. I could
feel the bulge of his cock against mine, since I too was wearing briefs,
and actually felt him push slightly more into me. I focused on London's
smooth face; perfectly shaped lips, the slight pink in his cheeks, the
hazel colored eyes that were sometimes green and ultra long lashes that
framed what was this time a look of concern. His Flaxen hair was cut
short, no more than two inches long over his entire head, and sometimes
gave him a bit if an impish look.

"No baby boy you didn't hurt me just caught me off guard," I responded.
He answered me with "good" then laid his head on my shoulder. We stayed
like that for a good minute or two, my one hand having moved to run my
fingers through his thick but soft, fine hair while the other continued
to travel up and down his back even venturing farther onto the glorious
globes of his butt. Then I rolled him over so we were on our sides.
London threw his top leg over mine and stayed in close, our crotches
still touching each other.

"Can I start taking showers dad?" He asked and I nodded my head. "Will
you show me, right now; before I go to bed?" London had not seen me naked
since he was five or six nor had I seen him naked for at least four
years. I wondered what made him ask me to show him how it was done so I
asked him.

"I've never done it before. I want to make sure I'm doing it right." That
seemed plausible enough, considering. I nodded my head.

"Okay London, if you feel you need instructions I'd be glad to help." He
smiled and kissed me on the lips, something that he'd done all his life."
He rolled away from me and stood up, waited for me to stand then followed
me into the bathroom.

The bathroom was actually a suite of rooms. The sink area was the first
part, the tub and separate shower in the middle and the toilet was in its
own little room past the bathing area. The shower and the tub were
separated by a wall that contained the plumbing. It was walled on two
other sides, the side facing the room being open. The entire floor was
tile and had a slight tilt into the shower itself so any water might
escape the enclosure would run back into the shower area and down the
drain.

I reached in and got the water going then turned and pulled my briefs
off. London stared for about two seconds, pulled his eyes away then
shoved his underwear down to the floor and stood proudly before me.
Clearly my son had started the pubertal process. His cock, pale and blue
veined, had to be four and a half inches long and hung down whereas most
boys his age had dicks that were still in the pointing stage. His balls
had started to drop as well and already hung between pale smooth thighs,
two marbles in a soft and slightly wrinkled sac.

As much as I wanted to explore London's body I elected to step into the
shower area and beckoned him to follow.

"First rinse," I said and stepped backwards under the spray and wet my
hair the reached behind and pulled my cheeks apart telling him that it
was important to clean that area thoroughly. I then turned to face the
shower head and had him stand along side me as I scooped water in a hand
over hand motion just under my balls to drench my crotch.

"Now you do it." I stepped back out of the way and allowed my son to go
through his first ritual which I found kind of sweet in a way that I
can't explain. I grabbed the shampoo bottle, scrubbed my own thick dark
blonde hair then rinsed off. We were standing facing one another and
although my eyes were mostly closed, they were open enough to see that
London was looking at my crotch. I figured it was normal boy curiosity so
took my time washing and rinsing to allow his curiosity to be somewhat
slaked. I handed the bottle to London and stood back while he went
through the process explaining that he needed to not move around too much
with his eyes closed and to make sure he didn't get soap in his eyes and
if he ever did he could put a hand on the wall for balance until he could
see again. I took the opportunity to give his body a good glance over
while he was in the rinsing process as well. I'm guessing that would be a
normal father's curiosity and I was proud of how my boy was developing.

Once he was done I went for the soap and realized there was only one bar
so stepped out of the shower. I grabbed the paper wrapped bar that had
been provided for the bathtub, peeled it open and stepped back into the
shower. I started at the top and worked my way down, London following my
moves. I gave my crotch a good soaping, explaining to London that it was
important to get all the way back toward his butthole.

"Why doesn't all that bouncing around hurt your balls Dad," he asked as
he repeated the vigorous motion on his own body. I gave him my best
explanation then moved to cleansing my asshole, reaching behind and
hiking a leg up to get at it and explaining how important it was to make
sure the area was soaped well.

"Would you do that part for me dad, to make sure?" My son asked. I must
have hesitated too long as I pondered that question so London added,
"Please."  I soaped my hand, had him stand with one foot on the sitting
area at the back of the shower and got down on my knees behind him. I
wrapped an arm around his waist to hold him steady then put my soaped
hand to a butt cheek and slipped in between his legs.

I hadn't touched a boy's butt hole for some time although like many boys
I'd had my share of mutual exploratory sessions with other boys my age. I
felt a tingling in my belly as I ran a finger back and forth across the
tightly puckered muscle. I even went so far as to push forward and touch
the underside of London's balls as I moved to and fro.

"Gosh dad that feels good," he said softly as I cleaned him, probably
taking a few more trips that absolutely necessary except that young boys
tend to neglect that area and I wanted to reinforce the notion of
cleaning it. Lord knows I'd seen plenty of evidence of that with boys in
the course of my job and I really wanted my son to understand the need to
do a complete job. I acknowledged to him that his butthole could be
sensitive and stood up, directing him under the shower spray to rinse
off.

"I started to get a boner dad," he said as he turned and I looked down to
see that indeed his not so little pecker had started to rise.

"Well that's because it feels better when someone else touched you there
son," I said by way of explanation.

"It looks like you started to get one too dad," said, pointing toward my
cock. Indeed my dick had moved upward about and inch, no more, but it was
enough to be noticeable. "Why is that dad? Did it feel good to you too?"
I explained that sometimes touching other people had that effect and of
course wanted to know why.

"Well, maybe it's because it feels good knowing that you're making
someone else feel good," I told him Then he took a different tack.

"You sure have a big one Dad. Will mine get that big when I grow up?" he
asked as he pushed his butt out and rinsed off his butthole.  I don't
want to brag but in the interest of accuracy I was just a shy over eight
inches. I had developed early, starting puberty about the same age as
London, noticed my first pubes within days of my eleventh birthday. They
had probably been there before but at that age I think most boys are
still naive and don't notice or even care much about those subtle
changes; balls dropping, penis growing and pubic moss. Once they do
notice however it becomes all important.

"Yes your penis, your testicles, your whole body is starting to grow and
will keep growing for awhile. All of your boy stuff will peak by fourteen
or fifteen and you'll reach your height by nineteen." He nodded his head
in assent then said,

"Do you want to check and make sure I rinsed the soap out good?" I
decided to humor him and had him bend over and spread his cheeks, baring
his tight little puckered hole to me for the first time. I told him he
was okay and he stood up and face me, holding his balls up out of the
way. "How about under here?" he asked. I got in close and checked him
out.

"All clear," I told him.

"One of the great things about showering with someone else," I told him,
"is getting your back scrubbed. I soaped my hands and had him turn around
and washed his back for him, rubbing his growing muscles as I worked down
to his butt. He almost purred. It wouldn't do but London had to wash my
back as well and he seemed to want to take as much care as I did.

Out of the shower, as we dried off, London asked when he would start
getting hairs "down there." I explained that it would likely take place
soon and may actually have already started which caused him to bend over
to look down declaring that he didn't see any.

"Here, let me look," told him and dropped to my knees. I pushed his penis
down and looked close and it sure looked like there were a few very pale
strands. I gently pulled his balls to the sides and looked him over
carefully then lifted his penis up and checked out the wrinkled beginning
of his sac.

"Gosh it feels so good when you touch me there," he said, the feelings of
being handle rushing through is body, especially his cock. I could feel
him begin to harden in my fingers so let go. "I'm getting a boner again
dad," he said and clearly he was. His cock was now pointing at me and
didn't seem to inclined to stop until it reached its zenith.

 "Well," I reiterated, "like I said, that happens when you get touched,
especially down there." Of course he wanted to know if that would happen
to me if he touched me there. I explained that it would but it would
probably take a lot more touching than it did for him because it was all
so new to him.

"Do we have to get dressed right away dad? Can we just stay naked for a
little while?" I smiled and said that we could do whatever we wanted to.
Besides, I did want to check him out a little closer in the light. Back
the room I went to sit in an arm chair next to a floor lamp and called
London to me. I turned him toward the light and got in as close as I had
and again touched the base of his penis.

"Well London it looks to me like you've started to get some fuzz here."
Once again I lifted his little appendage, moved it from side to side then
held it up out of the way while I inspected is balls. Needless to say my
handling of him along with the warmth of my hand and fingers brought on
the gallant reflex. I could see the beginnings of a few hairs on his sac
but pretty much knew it would be some time before those little
mitochondria like strands amounted to anything. I'd had a few hairs on my
nuts too but they didn't start to get furry until I was mid-fourteen.

"Jeez it's hard again dad," London said as though I wasn't looking right
at his rigid boner. Unlike the other two times, this time it reach full
on stiff and stood proudly at attention in front of his flat, firm pubic
bone.

"I see that son, pretty good size for a boy your age too." Indeed the
rampant cocklet was pushing just under five inches and after so many
years behind a measuring tape I could say that with certainty. I couldn't
resist so squeezed it a few times which cause my son to sigh loudly and
me to smile.  I felt my own cock stir, not because it was my son but
because it was a boy.

"I would guess that you'll have some very visible hairs there in another
few months London." I sat in the chair while London bent over, pushed his
rock hard young cock down to inspect himself then stood up with a big
shit eating grin on his smooth beautiful face.

"I can see em dad, I can see the hairs growing." That being said he
climbed up onto my lap and made himself comfortable while I adjusted my
body to accommodate him. He was lying mostly on his back snuggled into
one arm so needless to say his cock was right there. I let my other arm
drape across his legs about knee level. I like any boy with a hard on
London's hand went to his crotch to squeeze, fondle, poke, prod, push and
pull at his cock mostly but also his balls which had started to shrink
back up due to the temperature change. He giggled a little bit then said,

"Your hairs are poking me in the butt." He didn't wait for a comment but
went on. "How come my balls are getting smaller dad. My penis does that
too sometimes. I don't mean hard or soft but sometimes it seems shorter."
By that time his cock head was getting red from being so hard. I
explained to him the whys and wherefores of why his body reacted the way
it did. He accepted that and went on.

"Does your dick get big and hard if someone touches it dad?" I told him
it did. "Can I touch it, can I make your dick hard, I'd like to see it
hard I bet it's huge." He'd already started to move his body in order to
gain access to my cock, which at the moment was hanging lazily between my
legs but already stirring at the dialog we were having as well as the
position we were in and the fact that my son seemed totally unashamed or
embarrassed about playing with himself in front of me..

"Well that probably isn't a good idea London." That prompted the typical
response from him

"Because I'm an adult and you're a child not to mention I'm your father."

"So what dad, you touched me and I liked it. I bet you'd like it if I
touched your dick." I explained that a boy or man's genitals were indeed
sensitive to anyone's touch but doing that with boys close to his own age
would be more appropriate. Besides sometimes a parent needs to touch
their children like that. Like tonight I was showing him how to clean
himself and inspecting his body in answer to his question about growing
hair.

"Well I think it's appropriate for us to touch each other and not with
strangers," he informed me. "I think its okay because you're my dad and
you're spose to teach me stuff."

As I said before; yes I liked boys, no I hadn't looked at my son in those
terms but the way the conversation was going I was started to see him in
a different light. And he was at the age that I most loved boys; the
beginning stages of puberty. Don't get me wrong, I loved all boys but the
ages of eleven or twelve to fourteen were the hottest to me for a whole
bunch of reasons that I'm not going to get into. Suffice it to say that
London was entering, or had entered, that phase of his life and he seemed
more than inclined to share that with me in fact it appeared that he
wanted to.

Even as I was telling London about the inappropriateness of sharing those
things with him my mind was working out a way to actually do it without
it seeming to be inappropriate, such as my instructing him in the shower.
On my lap, my son continued to be focusing on his boyhood charms. He
squeezed his rampant penis, pulled it down and let it snap back, pushed
it into his body and let it bounce back up and repeating that gesture two
or three times. I had to chuckle and London asked why.

"Oh, just that you remind me of when I was your age doing what every boy
does with his penis. It seems like you could spend hours playing with,
pushing and pulling and snapping it about."  He asked if I was serious
and I told him I was, that every boy on the planet probably did stuff
like that and even more which of course prompted him to ask what more
stuff could a boy do.

"Well those are things you'll discover as you get older son." Naturally
his retort was why couldn't I show him since I was his father after all.
He yawned hugely.

"It's your job."

"Well it's your job to get a good night's sleep," I said, sidestepping
his arguments. He slid up off my lap but then crawled back in, this time
facing me, kissed me on the lips and leaned his upper body into mine and
hugged me whispering I love you in my ear. I held him, one hand high and
the other low which prompted him to push into me a little harder. I was
acutely aware of his rock hard cock pressing against my belly and
reflexively put my hand on his slender little butt and held him a little
tighter. I could feel my cock stir once more, this time a little faster
than before.

I loosened my hold on him and gently encouraged him to move away and as
he stood up he looked down and saw my physical reaction, about a quarter
mast or less. I wasn't sure but there may have been a little bit of a
smile forming on his perfect lips.

"Can I sleep without underwear dad?" I nodded my head.

"You bet you can baby boy. London snuggled into his bed and was soon fast
asleep. I turned the light off as soon as he went to bed but continued to
fondle and nurse my cock into a full blown erection. I let my brain run
over the events of the evening, trying to focus on the actions and not
the fact that it was my son. I slowly stroked my cock, fondling my heavy
sac and fantasized about London watching me and maybe even doing it with
me, a father and son squeezing the weasel together, a real bonding
experience. I hadn't had an orgasm for at least two weeks maybe longer so
was more than ready to unload the pent up sperm. I groaned as my cock
thickened and the first of seven volleys of thick gooey cum blasted out
onto my chest and belly and in my mind's eye I could see the look of
astonishment on London's face as he witnessed for the first time that
which he would see and do a couple a thousand times in his lifetime. I
half sat, half lay in the chair wondering if London's curiosity was going
to take this anywhere, hoping on some level that it would. I finally
cleaned up and went to bed.

I woke up from a somewhat bizarre dream in the middle of the night to
discover that London had climbed into my bed and was snuggled up to me
and somehow in my sleep I had managed to get an arm around his neck and
was holding him. I was on my back and he was up against my thigh with one
leg thrown over one of mine, his knee resting against my balls. His arm
was thrown across my belly, low enough that the head of my hard cock was
pushing against his elbow. London had a middle of the night boner that
was pressed up against my hip and I was sorely tempted to move just
enough to fondle and stroke him, but I didn't.

I woke about seven and discovered immediately that my son was awake as
well. I was still on my back and London was gently feeling me up,
squeezing gently up and down on my morning erection. He moved his hand
down and cupped my nuts, hefted them as if feeling their weight then went
back to feeling my cock. I thought about feigning sleep then slowly
coming awake to give him time to remove his hand without me supposedly
knowing what he'd been doing. Or I could simply "wake up" and catch him
at it then go from there. I elected to go for the latter. I popped my
eyes open and turned my head toward him. Although the room was darkened
by the curtains I'd left the light on in the toilet area in the event
that either of us had to get up to piss in the night. Subsequently there
was a slight amount of light in the room and in this case enough that my
son realized I was awake, that he'd been caught feeling me up. He jerked
his hand away as though it he'd touched a hot iron. I rolled to my side
and looked at him in the thin light; saw the expression of guilt and
embarrassment on his smooth young face.

"Look son," I started in my softest most caring voice. "It's normal for
boys to be curious about stuff, especially sex and sexual organs. I rose
up over him and turned on the small light between our beds then tossed
the covers back exposing us both. Of course he was young boy hard. I
stayed on my side propped up on an elbow looking at him.

"I want you to go ahead and look all you want, touch if you want to,
explore my body. Satisfy your curiosity son, its okay." I lay back and
looked down at my cock standing proud and strong above my flat smooth
belly.

"It seems strange to do that while you're awake dad," he said, then
finally looked at me.

"Why? You said yourself last night that we're father and son and you felt
that I should be teaching you stuff, remember." London hesitated then
slid down on the bed and leaned close and took hold of my cock. The
feeling of his small hand grasping me was incredible and I felt my dick
change from piss mode to sexual mode. London felt up and down the length,
got in close and examined the swollen head then moved to my balls and
hefted them again.

"Gosh your so big dad, I can't believe it," he said with a little awe in
his high voice. "Everything is so big, I can't believe I'll ever get as
big as you." My cock throbbed at the praise my young son was heaping on
me.

"Why is it hard in the morning dad? My dick seems to be like that every
morning when I wake up. Sometimes it's annoying when it's like that, not
like sometimes when it feels good." I chuckled and explained the male
body to him and went on to say that he would notice that he got hard
quite a bit more and not just at night and not because he was touching
himself. I explained a little more about the maturation process and that
he would have quite a bit of intense feeling for the next few years but
eventually things would slow down a little bit.

"Does it feel good when I touch you dad, like it does when you touch me."

"It sure does son."

"Well if it feels good then why can't we do it more often?" Fuck I love
the logic of children. I reminded him of what I'd told him the night
before and he responded by saying that if nobody else knew about it then
so what. I thought for a moment then came to the same conclusion that
London had, not that I needed a whole lot to arrive there.

"Okay, well, how about let's just see okay?" He asked if I meant it,
excitement in his voice and I nodded my head. Without another word he
rolled over on top of me and adjusted his smaller body to mine. His put
his arms around my neck and relaxed into me, our hard cocks not quite
aligned but his on my lower belly and mine along the crease of his pubic
bone. I put my arms around him, surprised at his move and rubbed him, not
avoiding his tender little butt at all but going right for it. My hand on
his butt seemed to encourage him to press his cock against me which in
turn pressed mine against him.

"That feels really good dad, when I push against you," he whispered and
gave his hips a little more motion. "It makes me get a tingly feeling in
my belly like Christmas or something." Yeah, well I knew the feeling. An
innocent move on London's behalf had changed a more or less innocent
action into a very charged sexual situation. In reaction I held his soft
smooth body a little tighter, reveling in the warmth of him, the weight
of his body on mine. I really wanted to cum, wanted him to keep moving
his body against mine until I peaked and my sperm oozed out between our
bodies. I was dying to show London the secret of life, dying to allow my
son to take me there and eventually me taking him there. He raised his
head, looked at me and kissed me on the lips.

"This feels so good dad, I love it when you hold me. I love you," and he
kissed me again. My hands kneaded his tender butt and one moved a little
lower and touched the underside of his bag. London squirmed at my touch
and ground his cock into my belly even farther.

"That tickles dad," he said. I told him I knew that it would, that was
why I did it, then rolled him off of me and onto our sides.

"Let's take a shower and get started on our day, okay?"

"I have to peer first," he said as we entered the bathroom area.

"You can pee in the shower." He looked askance at me. "Why not," I said,
"it's just going to go down the drain anyway besides I bet you leak out a
little pee when you take your baths." He smiled and agreed with me.

"Well I don't want to pee on you."

"Why not? I mean, it's not like I WANT you to pee on me but on the other
hand it's not going to hurt a thing. Urine is perfectly sterile, it has
no germs what-so-ever," said. That being said I forced my pee up and held
my dick down and pissed on London's legs and feet. He laughed, aimed his
own dick and just started pissing, his stream arcing out of the much
smaller tube and splattering my belly.

"Oops I'm sorry dad I didn't mean to pee so high." He started to redirect
his stream but so did I and began aiming at his stomach and his crotch.
He laughed again and of course it became a pee war. Afterwards London
declared that it had been fun then we went through the cleansing process
and it wouldn't do but what London insisted that I check him out as he
bent over and spread his cheeks for my inspection the faced me and lifted
his growing boy stuff for me to have look there as well. Pronounced good,
we got out and dried off.

It was barely seven thirty when we finished and both of us were hungry so
I ordered room service. We lounged around naked until the food showed up
then I tossed on a bathrobe and London climbed under the bed covers, both
of us returning to our previous state of nakedness after the delivery boy
left.

"It's kind of strange but fun eating without any clothes on isn't it
dad?" London asked. I agreed that it was and told him that I preferred
nudity to clothes but that his mother hadn't. That produced a sad look
across his smooth young face but he didn't say anything and was soon back
to his smiling effervescent self.

Afterwards we got dressed and headed out to start our day which was
filled with lots of ooh's and aah's and look at this and isn't that cool,
all from London. I loved seeing my son excited about things and much of
the time I shared his wonder at the displays we viewed.

Back at the hotel room that night we lounged and watched TV, London
electing to lay between my legs resting back against me, both of us in
underwear. That was due in part to the fact that I have never in my life
been able to keep a hotel room at a constant temperature. So there we
reclined, my arms around London's waist and his arms on mine. It didn't
take a whole long time before one of his hands found its way onto his
crotch where it fumbled and poked until the front of his briefs tented
out. I tried not to pay too much attention, focusing on whatever mindless
stuff was on the tube but it soon became apparent that London wasn't
watching television at all. I moved my head somewhat and whispered in his
ear,

"Feels good doesn't it baby boy?" His whole body shivered for a moment in
reaction to my breath in his ear, something that I'd sort of hoped for.
As I said, I'd never ever considered being sexual in way with my son but
things were moving in that direction and it felt like I was being led
there.mostly.

"Yeah," he responded in a more husky voice. "Sometimes I can't help it
dad, I just have to touch myself. Once it gets hard it seems like I have
to touch it even more." That being said he squeezed his rock hard cock
tightly and I swear he moaned very softly. "Can I take my underwear off
dad?" As if I would say no.

"Of  course you can son, you don't have to ask." He lifted his butt and
quickly got rid of his briefs then lay back in my arms and resumed
playing with himself. He held his hard cock upright, pushing at the base,
then squeezed up and down its length. He wrapped a hand around the
swollen head and squeezed it tightly then let go and watched it swell
back up then wrapped his hand around his cock and his balls.

"Gosh that feels so good dad." He said. I felt myself start to get hard
as I watched my son explore his preteen body. "You want to feel it dad?
You want to see how hard my dick is?"

"If you want me to London, I will."

"I do dad." I slowly let my hand move down his flat belly until it was
stopped by the base of his cock then wrapped my fingers around him and
gripped my son's boyhood pride and joy for the first time. London's
entire body went stiff for a second and he moaned out loud then relaxed
into me again, his breath having picked up speed. I lowered my hand and
cupped his balls then gently squeezed and tugged at his smooth sac
earning myself yet another moan of pleasure.

"Oh man dad it feels so much better when you touch me," London stated
after I retrieved my hand. I told him I understood completely. "Are you
getting a boner too dad? It feels like it." he then leaned forward and
reached back between us, found my cock and squeezed it. "You do have a
boner dad." He turned around to face me.  "Can I see it? Please dad, can
I see your dick?" It was my turn to lift my butt up off the bed. London
moved to give me room as I tugged my briefs down, relieving my dick of
the pressure of having been cooped up in a confined spot, then slid them
down and off.

"My gosh dad it seems bigger than it was this morning," he commented as
he tossed one leg over mine and sat on my thigh with his legs curled back
beneath his upper legs. He all but stared for a few minutes then reached
out and grasped onto me. I felt my body tingle as my son felt me,
reveling in the touch of a boy again.

It had probably been five years or more since my last time I'd had such
an encounter with a boy. Terrin had been thirteen at the time. I'd fitted
him for a suit at the shop then delivered it to his house, a large home
in an affluent neighborhood, for his fitting. It was mid afternoon, his
parents were out of the country and the maid had been out on afternoon
errands. We had gone up to his room where he immediately shed everything
down to his bikini style briefs, an unusual undergarment for a boy his
age and at that time, the late 1970's. Clearly the boy had spent time in
Europe.

So there he was in all of his boyhood glory, his boyhood glory barely
covered and the lack of an undershirt only making everything seem more
prominent. Terrin had seemed rather well endowed for his age when I'd
first measured him, especially when he'd gotten hard, his cock pushing
against the front of his underwear. He hadn't seemed embarrassed in the
least and had even cupped himself more than once while we went through
the measurement process.

"Does this happen to boys a lot when you measure them Mr. Carter?" he'd
asked in a still somewhat high pitched boy's voice. I told him it
happened all the time, that it was no big deal.

So there in the middle of his large bedroom the boy stepped into the
slacks, hooked and zipped them. I was kneeling in front of the boy and
slipped my fingers into the waist band of the pants, my fingers warmed by
the heat of his body. I had him turn around and patted his terrific
little butt.

"How does it feel back here?"

"You mean the pants or when you pat me?" he asked with a clear tone of
coyness in his voice.

"You tell me," I countered.

"It feels good." He paused then said, "And they fit well too." I turned
him around.

"How does it feel in the crotch?" I asked.

"It feels a little tight to me, what do you think?" I put my hand on the
front of the slacks and pressed, immediately detecting that he'd gotten
hard.

"Well I wonder if it would fit better if this," and I squeezed gently on
his cock, "wasn't awake." I looked up at him so see him smiling down at
me.

"Probably," he said. I took the liberty of undressing him, sliding the
slacks to the ground. Terrin put his hands on my shoulders and stepped
out of them and stood up. My face was directly in line with his groin and
the fact that he was rock hard was painfully apparent, the tube of his
cock stretching up toward his right hip.

"That looks a little uncomfortable Terrin."

"It is Mr. Carter. Would you be embarrassed if I took them off?"

"Not at all. Would you like me to help?"

"Would you." he stated rather than asked. I reached up and hooked my
fingers in the waistband of the deep green garment, pulled outward so as
not to snag him and pulled down. His boyhood sprang to attention,
standing proud and strong in front of his slender body. I slipped the
underwear to the floor and he stepped out of them.

"You are a pretty big boy Terrin," I said, staring at easily seven inches
of fully erect boy cock. The tiny patch of moss at the base was sandy
colored and sparse enough that skin showed through very easily. Below
that his sperm makers hung freely in a soft smooth sac.

"Thank you. I bet you're pretty big too aren't you Mr. Carter?" I
shrugged my shoulders. "May I see please?" he asked. I asked about the
maid and he assured me that she would be gone for two hours at least.

I stood up and removed my jacket, my slacks and started on my shirt.
Terrin all but stared at my crotch, slowly feeling and stroking his boy
boner. When I slipped my briefs to the floor he smiled.

"I knew you would be big Mr. Carter," he said. "Can I touch it?" I nodded
my head and the boy stepped up close and took hold of my cock and stroked
me a few times. Close contact with boys, like this, had been fairly
limited since I'd been a teenager. Sure I'd jacked off and even sucked a
few boys but being naked with one and having him touch me was a distinct
rarity. I loved it.

"You can touch mine if you want," he said as he continued to explore my
body. I didn't need to be asked twice and took his boy cock in my hand
and squeezed it.

"God that feels great Mr. Carter," he all but gasped. "Lets go lay on my
bed."  We lay down facing each other on his king sized bed and both
immediately took hold of the other's cock.

"Isn't that weird how our balls hang down like that?" he said, adding,
"Yours are pretty big too." With that he cupped and fondled my sac. "Can
I suck on you please?"

I didn't need to be asked twice about that but nodded my head and rolled
onto my back. The boy slid down the bed and draped himself about halfway
across my body and took hold of my dick. He lowered his head and took me
inside of his mouth and began bobbing his head. My size didn't seem to
bother him and made me wonder how much experience he had. I reached over
his hips and took hold of his cock and began stroking him as he did a
credible job of giving me a long awaited blow job. Terrin kept it up for
a good minute or two taking time out to lick my swollen head then going
back to sucking me.

"My mouth gets sore, especially on one so big," he said with a smile. "Do
you want to suck on me?" in answer I pushed him on his back, draped over
his body like he'd done to me and took hold of his raging boner. I loved
the feel of a boy in my hand, the warmth, the firmness yet softness of
skin. I lowered my head and took him into my mouth and throat, managing
an easy half of his length before backing off.

"Oh shit," he gasped. I cupped his smooth nuts and gently pulled on them
then allowed a finger to trail down to the beginning of his crack. Terrin
placed his feet flat on the bed and spread his legs a little further then
reached down with his free hand and pulled his slender little butt cheek
open. I got the hint and continued down until I touched his puckered hole
and got yet another gasp.

"I want to suck on your cock again Mr. Carter," he said so I moved into a
side by side sixty nine and felt the warmth of his mouth on my cock at
the same time I took him into mine. I was surprised at the depth of
Terrin's enthusiasm and was wondering how far he'd be willing to go. I
was sure that he would be more than open to stuffing his thirteen year
old cock up my ass. What I really wanted was to fuck him, to have him on
his back with his knees up against his shoulders as I drove eight plus
inches of man cock into his slender little body until I filled his ass
with cream. Apparently Terrin and I were on the same wave length.

"Damn Mr. Carter, I think I want you to fuck me," he said after rolling
away from me. I looked into his eyes, the deep blue orbs barely visible
through the slits. The boy was in a fog of hotness the likes of which I
hadn't seen for some time.

"Have you ever been fucked Terrin?" He shook his head

"No, but I want you to fix that for me?" I didn't have to ask if the boy
was sure, I could easily tell that he meant every word of what he was
saying.

After spending three or four minutes finger fucking the boy to a point of
orgasm I lubed my dick with intensive care lotion - the jack off grease
of choice for boys I understand - and had him pull his legs back, knees
to his shoulders. I guided my swollen head to his puckered hole and
pushed, the third time I slipped inside.

"Ooooow fuck," he cried out so I didn't move and told him to relax his
butthole and to breathe.  He did as I asked, losing his boner in the
process, but eventually told me to go ahead,

"Slowly." I kept my eyes on my dick, getting a huge visual stimulation as
well as physical. It was hot as hell to watch my cock disappear inside
his virgin body and the tightness on my dick was beyond anything I'd felt
in a long time and considering that it had been some time since I'd
fucked a boy I thought for a moment that it might well have been worth
the wait.

I continued moving until my fuzz touched his skin and my balls rested
against him. I asked how he was doing and he replied,

"I'm fine. Are you going to fuck me now? I'm ready." I decided that an
answer wasn't necessary and began to pull out of the boy, stopped about
half way and moved back inside of him. I managed a dozen strokes then
leaned forward and put my hands on the bed along side of him so that I
was then driving down into him. I picked up a faster rhythm and began
pulling farther out of Terrin's tight little asshole before plunging back
inside. It didn't take long before the boy's breathing became faster and
the grunts, groans, and moans became louder. He had put his hands on my
shoulder and every once in awhile his fingers would grip my flesh, not
painfully however.

I felt myself getting close to cumming, picked up speed. Terrin must have
sensed something was up because he asked me if I was cumming.

"Not yet but almost," I told him. One of his hands left my shoulder and
snaked in between us and from the motion I figured that he was jacking
off. About a minute later Terrin let out a moan and I felt his asshole
constrict against my dick. Well, you know that took me right over the
edge right along with him and I began pumping jet after jet of thick,
pent up sperm into the boy's bowels. I continued to drive into him but
slowed down, moved my ass in circles and sideways before resuming the
normal pumping action. Below me Terrin continued to groan and moan but
his arm action had slowed down as well.

We both finally stopped about the same time and just lay there panting
like racehorses. I opened my eyes and looked down on the boy who had a
rather beatific expression on his smooth young face. He finally opened
his eyes, looked at me, and smiled in a lazy sort of way, then raised his
head and kissed me on the lips.

"That was fucking awesome Mr. Carter. I've been waiting for that since
you first fitted me in your shop and I was hoping even then that we'd do
something together." I told him to hold on then managed to get us into a
sitting position with Terrin on my lap, impaled by eight inches of cock.
He wrapped his arms around my neck, kissed me a few more times then lay
his head on my shoulder. I held him, rubbed his back and just reveled in
the feel of his body melded into mine. I'd have loved to have stayed
there but of course that was impossible. I'd also hoped that I'd be able
to spend time with Terrin in the future, wanted to feel his boyhood deep
inside my ass, but of course that wasn't possible either. We separated
and both took a quick shower. Fortunately my hair was fairly short and
dried quickly for no sooner had we dressed that the maid knocked on
Terrin's door to let him know that she was back home. He told her he was
trying on his suit and would be out in a minute, quickly donned the
garment along with a shirt then went to find her for her approval. I left
the house to return to work.


My son stroked me a few times, squeezed my cock, then used his other hand
to cup and fondle my balls. I felt my body tingle at the familiar
feelings of a boy's touch.

"You know London, if you keep doing that, moving your hand on my dick
like you are, something really great will happen." Of course he wanted to
know what that was so I told him to keep doing it and see. Needless to
say, he did. Also needless to say, his hand got tired and he had to
switch hands but I was really close and encouraged him to keep it up,
that he would get a big surprise.

"I'm almost there baby boy. Oh yeah, keep going, keep going, Oh God." My
body stiffened and the incredible feelings of orgasm ripped through my
body and I squirted; a long thick ropy strand of sperm that landed just
below my left nipple. That was followed by five more jets that gradually
diminished in volume and distance before my cock slid into oozing mode,
thick globs of cum that slipped out then slid down over London's fingers.

"What was that dad, and why are you breathing so hard? He stopped
stroking me so I took over and continued a slow stroke, my cock needing a
firm grip for just a little while longer.

"That's sperm son, the stuff that boys produce to make babies. You can't
actually see the sperm because their so tiny, in fact there are over a
million of them in the white stuff which is called semen. It's made
mostly in the balls, the sperm that is, while the semen is produced by
other glands then the two get mixed and come out just like you saw. I'm
breathing hard because it's exciting to make it come out and the feelings
are the best you'll ever feel. What we just did is called masturbation
but most guys call it jacking off, or beating off or any number of other
names."

"Oh boy dad, can I do it, can I make the sperm stuff?" I explained that
he was most likely to young to produce sperm or any liquid but that he
was growing up pretty fast so it probably wouldn't be very long before it
actually happened.

"What would happen if I just jacked off, anything?"

"Well at the very least it would feel pretty good."

"Will you do it for me dad, will you jack me off?" My boy was pretty
excited at the idea and I have to say that I was too. I had him get a
hand towel from the bathroom and cleaned myself off then had him lay next
to me. I was dying to suck his cock but I was also pretty nervous about
it. Had I jacked him off before I came it might have been different but
as any male knows, one's ardor tends to wane after cumming and often
time's one's thinking becomes a little more clear.

I took hold of London's cock with thumb and fingers and began the
process. I then moved to a kneeling position between his legs so that I
could play with his balls while I jacked his cock. Of course he started
breathing faster, moaning softly. Amazingly enough, I didn't know that
preteen boys actually experienced a dry orgasm. I was thirteen, had hairs
for almost a year before I'd first jacked off and discovered the
wonderful world of sperming.  I'd never been with a preteen boy in my
life so when London said that it was starting to tickle in his dick I was
a little surprised.

"Gosh dad, stop, it tickles." Well I didn't stop and seconds later my
almost eleven year old son experienced his first orgasm. He started
humping his hips upward into my fingers then practically screamed as his
little cocklet thickened in against my fingers. His whole body went stiff
for a second, his hands clawed at the bed sheets and his moaning got much
louder. I was watching very closely but didn't see any evidence what so
ever of cum, not even a droplet. London relaxed back onto the bed,
breathing heavily, and I slowed my stroke to keep the feelings alive for
a little longer.

I finally stopped and moved along side London who still had his eyes
closed. When he finally opened them he looked at me, smiled, then rolled
into my arms and began kissing my lips and cheek, then my lips again.

"Jeez dad that was the most awesomest thing in the whole wide world.
You're right, the feelings are the best thing I ever felt. Is it better
when the sperm starts coming out? I can't believe how much it tickles, I
wanted you to stop but I'm glad you didn't." He then kissed me again,
keeping his lips against mine for a good four count. I held him to me and
rubbed his body, loving the feeling of having him in my arms our hard
cocks pressing against each other.

"I'm glad you liked it son." Was about all I could say. London wanted to
know if we could do it again and I explained that the body needed time to
rest a little bit first. London's hand had slipped down and was fondling
my cock and my balls so I did the same to him.

I knew then that I was going to be willing to take this all the way, or
at least as far as London wanted to go and I somehow I knew that meant
that I would eventually fuck my son. My cock throbbed at the thought.