Date: Tue, 09 Oct 2001 10:20:25 -0500
From: Tim Foure <timfoure@hotmail.com>
Subject: MD Sequel chapter 31

Me and Dad the Sequel, Part 2 - The Next Generation - Chapter 31 - Charlie

by Tim Foure
copyright  2001 by  Tim Foure

If you are under 18 or not permitted access to homosexual erotica where you
live, then you should not read this story. The other usual disclaimers too.
___________

Chapter 31 - Charlie

The easy nudity and frequent body contact with Dave and Larry at the gym
sent me home twice a week even more ready for sex than I usually was, and
during the early part of her pregnancy Linda was only too happy to oblige
me. She continued to be surprised that I didn't come home from the gym
exhausted as she'd expected I would. But as she grew bigger and her sex
drive declined, I found myself masturbating during my morning shower more
and more often, especially on Tuesdays and Fridays after I'd gone to the gym
the night before. I was careful to wait until Mike had finished in the
bathroom and had gone back to his room. It wasn't so much that I cared about
him seeing me as it was a habit. I thought of masturbation as essentially a
private activity.

But then circumstances seemed to conspire to take away that privacy, though
I didn't realize what was happening at first. As it became more difficult
for Linda to get started in the mornings, she asked me to take over getting
Mike up and ready for school. I was glad to help out, taking it for granted
that the stories about how difficult Mike was to wake up were greatly
exaggerated. It didn't take me long to realize that, if anything, the facts
were being understated. Mike was very hard to rouse from sleep, and even
when he'd been pulled far enough into consciousness to answer a direct
question, he remained as limp as the proverbial boneless cat. For several
mornings we struggled together, or I should say I struggled while he hung
limply from my arms, to get his pajamas off and to guide him down the hall
to the bathroom. It didn't seem to bother him in the least that he had a
hardon which practically slapped me in the face each time I pulled off his
pajama pants. Things eased up somewhat when he stopped wearing pajamas and I
could avoid the effort of getting them off of him, but as a result he was
even less awake when I pulled him from his bed.

I felt peculiar at first as we went down the hall having a naked teenager
hanging on me, his hardon the only part of his body which was self
supporting. But after a few mornings like that, things changed. I found that
instead of him ending up beside me when I pulled him out of bed, he came up
practically in my arms. After a little rearranging, we ended up in our usual
position so I could help him get to the bathroom. Then I became aware that
the rearranging involved more and more rubbing of his crotch against mine.
Since I was usually still sporting most of my morning erection, the rubbing
was taking the form of his dick sliding against mine. By the time I had him
standing beside me with his arm draped over my shoulders and mine around his
waist, I was as hard as he was. He also seemed to be waking up much faster
than he had been, though his level of consciousness seemed to level off as
soon as he was standing beside me.

I mulled this over and concluded he was up to something, and I had a fairly
good idea what it was. I decided to go along with his game, watching his
plays to see how he would bring it off. I have to give him credit for being
fairly subtle about it, or as subtle as a teenager can ever be, but
eventually we reached the point where he invited me to join him in the
shower so we could masturbate together. From that morning on, on the few
days a week when he had spent the night at home and Chris hadn't spent it
with him, he invited me to join him in the shower.

At first we masturbated ourselves, though after we were finished he always
grabbed my dick and squeezed it lightly as he was getting out of the shower.
But one morning he asked me, "Have you ever done it to somebody else?"

"You mean masturbated someone else?"

"Yeah. Or had somebody else do it to you?"

"No, I never have."

"It's really hot! Chris and I do it to each other all the time. Want to?"

I mulled it over. It was more than I had intended to do. But then I decided,
'Why not?' "Ok. How do we do it?"

I hadn't even gotten the question out before he had wrapped his
lather-filled hand around my dick between my own hand and my pubic hair. He
began stroking immediately, pushing my hand off the end of my dick. My
method of masturbating is to keep the skin over the head and stroke lightly
all the way to the end with my whole hand. I noticed immediately that he was
doing the same thing. Since I knew it was unlikely he'd had any experience
stroking uncut boys among his friends, I took it for granted he'd been
watching me closely. The other possibility that occurred to me after a while
was that, give the closeness of their relationship, his father might have
taught him how to masturbate. The idea appealed to me. It was something I
could look forward teaching my own son if Linda and I had a boy.

"You can do me at the same time or wait and do me afterwards," Mike told me,
breaking into my thoughts which were focused more and more on the pleasure
his hand was giving me.

"Which do you like better?"

"I like to take turns better. That way you can pay attention when I'm doing
you and I can pay attention when you're doing me."

"Fine by me," I said, leaning against the side of the tub enclosure to
support myself as Mike continued to stroke me.

In a short time I had an intense orgasm, almost sliding down the wall of the
tub as my knees went weak. As soon as I was finished, I worked up some
lather with the bar of soap and took hold of Mike's dick. I had stroked it a
few times in the same way as he had stroked me when he suddenly pulled back
so his dick slid out of my hand.

"You can't touch the head so much. It's too sensitive. I can't stand it.
Hold it like this."

He showed me with his own hand and then took mine and arranged it on his
dick as he had demonstrated. As I started to stroke again, being careful to
avoid the head, he closed his eyes and sighed. In under three minutes I felt
his dick jerk in my hand and then begin to pulse as cum shot out the end. He
grabbed my arm to support himself, opening his eyes and smiling as his dick
began to soften.

"That was great!"

"I liked it too," I told him.

He made short work of washing himself off and got out of the shower. I
washed as he dried himself and dried myself as he brushed his teeth. I
shaved after he left. And that became our pattern every morning he was home
without Chris until a month or so after Jason was born when it began to
taper off. At first I felt bad about the increasing infrequency of our
mutual masturbation, as if I'd only been using him while Linda was unwilling
or unable  to have sex. But when I thought about it carefully, I realized he
had been the one who had been in control all along, and he had also been the
one to slow us down. We never stopped completely while he lived at home or
was home on vacations from college, but it became a rare event rather than a
regular activity.

There was also an unexpected secondary effect from our mutual masturbation.
I had thought Mike was exceptionally open with me almost from the first time
I met him, and I was aware that the closeness of our relationship increased
steadily in stages as we got to know each other better. But after we began
our morning play in the shower, it seemed as if another layer had been
peeled away because Mike started talking to me quite freely about sex and
his own sexual activity. I had no experience with teenagers to compare this
to, but I was certain this kind of openness was unusual. And I was amazed at
the depth of his knowledge and the variety of things he and Chris had tried.
I'd had to admit to him that I didn't have any similar experiences of my own
to share with him since I'd hardly had any friends my own age as I was
growing up. He told me he felt sorry for me for missing out as I had. So in
an effort to return the same intimate level of information about myself that
he was revealing to me,  I began telling him of my dating experiences after
my fiance and I had broken up and before I began dating his mother. I never
talked about my sexual relationship with his mother, and he in turn never
asked.

As Linda got closer to her delivery date, Mike also started talking about
the baby. He was hoping for a boy, and I had to admit many of my fantasies
about my relationship with the baby as it grew up were centered around its
being a boy too, though I did have a number of fantasies about what it would
be like to have a daughter. Mike, it turned out, also had fantasies about
the baby, but his were centered exclusively on its being a boy. He was
particularly interested in one thing.

"You're not gonna let them circumcise him, are you?" he asked me.

"I hadn't really thought about it. But the doctor delivering him, if it is a
him, won't do it with being told to. It doesn't happen automatically."

"I thought it was, like, routine. But you're a doctor so you ought to know."

In spite of what he said, he didn't look convinced, so I told him, "It is
pretty much routine, but it still doesn't happen automatically. Parents have
to give instructions to have it done. But it may be something as simple as
checking a box on the papers you fill out during admission for delivery.
I'll look into it."

"Just make sure it doesn't happen to him, ok?"

"Why is it such a big issue? It might be better for him in school if he is
circumcised. I told you what it was like for me growing up and having a
penis that looked different from what most of the other boys had."

"I don't know why I think that way but I wish you wouldn't get it done to
him." He paused for a few seconds. A shrewd look passed quickly over his
face and then he said, "It'd really piss Grandfather off if you don't. He's
the reason it happened to me. But I already told you that."

I decided to play along with him. "Now you've given me something to think
about. It doesn't matter to me one way or the other, but if it would piss
your Grandfather off, then it might be worth doing. Or not doing, to be more
accurate." Our shared dislike for Linda's father was one of our strongest
bonds.

"Honest, it will! You can ask my dad."

"No need. I believe you."

"So you won't then? Promise?"

"I'll talk to your mother about it."

"Why? She doesn't have a dick. What would she know about it."

"Well, she is having the baby. Remember? And if she has an opinion about
this, I want to know what it is. You could always talk to her about it."

"You're kidding, right? Talk to my mom about dicks? No way!"

I couldn't help but laugh. "You know, she has seen one. In fact, she's seen
yours, though not recently. But I'll talk to her about it and let you know
what she says. Ok?"

"Yeah, that'd be great! But I still hope you don't do it to him."

And in the end, we didn't.

When we brought Jason home, Mike offered to babysit whenever we wanted.
Linda was sure he would be less willing once the newness of the baby wore
off. When he told her he wanted to learn how to change his diaper so he
could help her out, she was certain that would be the turning point.
Personally I thought he only wanted to check on the condition of Jason's
foreskin, but I kept that to myself. But Mike surprised us both. He remarked
a few times that it was hard to believe such awful smells could come from
such a cute baby, but he changed Jason's diaper whenever Linda asked him to
or whenever he decided for himself that it was needed. That meant I was
seldom saddled with the task, a thing for which I was very grateful.

Over a short period of time Mike showed his willingness to do nearly
anything for Jason that needed doing. The one thing he couldn't do, though,
and the one thing that probably caused the greatest change in Mike's
thinking, was breast-feed him. One evening a few days after coming home from
the hospital. Linda settled on the sofa and began to feed Jason. Mike was
watching television and apparently hadn't noticed what she was doing until
she spoke to him and he turned to answer her. As soon as he saw her breast,
he turned very red and began to stammer that he'd leave until she was done.

"You can stay here while I feed him," Linda told him. "It's ok."

"No, that's ok. I'll just go do my homework or something." He was out of his
chair and headed for the door.

"Mike. Come back here."

He stopped but he didn't backtrack. And he wouldn't look at Linda.

"You're being silly. This is a perfectly natural thing and you're old enough
to know it. Now sit down and watch your program."

"I'd rather go do my homework."

"You're not fooling me for one minute. I know you better than that." The
tone of her voice changed. "You know, this isn't the first time you've seen
my breast. You looked at it close up for quite a long time while you were
nursing."

He did look at here when she said that. "I did that?"

"Of course. That's the way you feed babies."

"Then what are baby bottles for?"

"For mothers who can't or don't want to feed their babies at the breast. I
can and I want to besides."

"I really did the same thing as he's doing?" He gestured toward Jason.

"Same thing exactly. Now sit down."

He sat. Every once in a while he would turn his head and look at her, and
whenever she noticed she'd smile at him. The next time it happened, he
seemed to be paying no attention, though I did notice him looking out the
corner of his eye at her periodically. Linda noticed it too.

"You know what, Mike?"

"What?" he asked, turning to look at her.

"I learned something recently I want you to learn too. It took me a long
time to learn it and I wish I'd learned it sooner. Being nude or having part
of your body show that's normally covered isn't always sexual just because
someone else is there to see it. I never would have nursed you in front of
anyone else except maybe my mother. Now I know that was a mistake. I know
you're smart enough not to make the same kind of mistake, so I decided I'd
ask you to think about it."

"Ok," was all he said.

But within days he paid only as much attention to the breast feeding as he
did to most things concerning Jason. And he told me one morning he didn't
need his robe to walk down the hall any more.

I couldn't resist asking, "What if your mother sees you."

"It's just a piss hard. Everybody gets them in the morning. Men I mean.
Right? I know Mom won't care, so I decided to get over it."

"Good for you," I told him, thinking that Linda's lesson took just as she
had intended.

To be continued
_______________

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