Date: Mon, 5 Sep 2005 18:52:03 -0700 (PDT)
From: New Stories <storiesnew@yahoo.com>
Subject: My Son Drives Me Crazy - Chapter 1

_________________________________________

My Son Drives Me Crazy - Chapter 1
by Dennis B.
StoriesNew@Yahoo.com

WARNING!  To qualify to read this story, you must be of legal age
and allowed by the jurisdiction or jurisdictions that govern you
to read sexually explicit and homosexual material.  If you do not
qualify, you must exit and seek other material.  You have been
warned.  Thank you for cooperating and being fair to others.

All persons, names, places, descriptions, and events are purely
fictional.  Any resemblance to actual persons, names, places,
descriptions, or events is totally accidental and a pure
coincidence.
___________________________________________

My Son Drives Me Crazy, by Dennis B.

John Millerson, 34
Jason Millerson, 14
Kevin Walsch, 14
Carl Mueller, M.D., 35


CHAPTER 1

    I don't know when I started liking boys.  I had always
thought certain men were cute, mostly younger ones, but I had no
sexual intent.  Now, I find myself attracted to boys who are
sexually mature and certain young men, up to my own age.  I still
have no sexual intent, but I imagine having sex with some of
them.  Others are just nice to look at.

    I suppose it was six years ago that I started realizing I was
gay or bisexual--around the time my wife Laura passed away,
leaving me with our only child, Jason, who was eight years old at
the time.  I felt burdened then, but I consoled myself with the
thought that I have a beautiful son who is well-mannered and
intelligent.

    Thankfully, money wasn't and isn't a problem because I have
my own business.  I especially like the freedom of taking time
off to go to Jason's baseball games, school plays, and other
events.

    I attended medical school for five years, but couldn't hack
the internship and dropped out.  My mother was bitter.  But when
I became a highly successful private detective, she forgave me.
I forgave myself, too.

    I'm a doctor in knowledge, but don't have the paper to prove
it, nor do I want to practice medicine publicly.  The knowledge
comes in handy for keeping an eye on my son's growth and health.
I give him regular check-ups, treat what I can--cuts, scrapes,
bumps, minor illnesses--and get him to a recognized physician
early if I think he has something serious.  I have an extensive
medical library and my medical bag with its basic tools--I
cherish those and use them to examine Jason weekly.

    I have a good doctor friend, Carl Mueller, who went to
medical school with me and supplies me with certain basic
medicines--some pills, tongue depressors and the like, and a few
solutions (with long shelf-lives) for injection--things I can't
obtain without a license and a membership in the American Medical
Association.  Carl knows those supplies are being put to good
use.  I never abuse that privilege.

    Now, at 14, Jason is quite a young man.  He's obviously a
boy, but I like thinking of him as a young man.

    With just the two of us, we became unusually close for father
and son.  Eventually we talked about everything, and I changed my
weekend activities to those I could do with Jason.

    I didn't spoil my son by catering to his every whim, but at
times I silently deferred to him, and he often wasn't aware of
the ways I altered my old habits to please him.  We hug a great
deal and have our own ways of playing and conversing.

    I don't know when, but I began to realize that my close
relationship with my boy was different from the other fathers and
sons I observed.  In most families, the attention bestowed on the
son was divided between father and mother, and this was not the
case with me and Jason.  The other father-son relationships I saw
had a coolness to them, a distance that struck me as odd, more
and more with the passage of time.

    It occurred to me one day that Jason might not know that our
closeness and fondness for each other was a rare thing.  I became
concerned that he might tell his classmates that he had a
superior relationship with me--that his friends' didn't have it
quite right with their dads--and this was sure to cause problems
for Jason.  One day while walking in the park with him, I
questioned him gently about this.

    "Jason, do you see that father over there with his son?"

    "Sure."

    "Watch them for a while and tell me what you see."

    I had to smile, the way Jason concentrated on the pair.  He
was a keen observer.  He got on his knees and played with some
acorns on the ground, but studied the boy and his father.  His
focus shifted gracefully from the ground to the dad and his son.
I saw beauty and intelligence in my son's eyes.

    "They don't look at each other a lot," he said casually, but
with a telling smile.

    "Yes," I said, getting on my knees with him and picking up a
few acorns.

    "They don't talk a lot, either."

    "Right.  And we do both of those things often, don't we?"  I
avoided saying 'very good' or some such thing.  I didn't want
Jason to think I was passing judgement on him all the time.

    "Yeah.  It's the same thing when I go to Kevin's house and I
see how he acts with his dad."

    "What do you see?"

    "I mean, they're like that guy and his son . . . not paying a
lot of attention to each other an' stuff.  But I don't say
anything."

    "That's good, Jason.  Never brag about what you have, or say
anything that might make your friends feel they don't have what
you have."

    "Yeah--I sorta knew that."

    "Now, what about us?"

    "What do you mean, dad?"  He broke his concentration and
looked directly at me.  I adored his little quizzical expression
and the way his nose wrinkled when something puzzled him.

    "Suppose you were that boy, watching us together.  What would
you see that's different?"

    "We talk a lot more, and look at each other, I guess."

    "That's right," I said, putting an arm around his shoulders
and squeezing--an act of approval and affection Jason understood.
"That makes us special."

    "Special?"

    "Well, yes . . . different, rare, maybe.  I don't have to
share you with anyone else.  I have you all to myself, Jase."

    With both of us kneeling, it was easy to pull him in for a
hug.  I crouched down a bit to put my head at the same level as
his.  I liked the feel of his ribs poking into my chest.

    "I get it--that's why we share a lot more," he said over my
shoulder.  He shifted, which caught my attention, and together we
watched the boy and his father walk toward their car, one
oblivious to the other.

    I love my son, and tell him that often.  I see the sincerity
in his eyes when he says the same to me.

    But I've started to have a little problem, especially when I
see Jason in his underwear or naked.  I find I'm attracted to him
now, and I become erect--easy for me to hide crouched on the
ground in a park, but not at other times.

    Jason is a very good-looking boy--about five feet, seven
inches tall and 130 pounds, with blond hair and intense hazel
eyes--with a face and a smile that attracts more than my
admiration.  His body shows great muscular potential for a 14-
year-old.  I know he's a late bloomer.  From the size of his
feet, he'll be a tall boy after his big growth spurt.  He is
sexually mature, however.  His pubic hair and penis are well
beyond the little-child stage.  I am mesmerized, captivated--
hopelessly enthralled with his sleek little body and undaunted
boyish ways.

    He'll never be a bulky bodybuilder, I thought, but he could
easily become one of those slim, well-built quarterbacks I often
admire for their fluidity of motion.  Jason has those same, quick
but graceful movements as he goes about everyday tasks.  I saw
that grace and fluidity when he got up from his acorns, that day
in the park.

    Over the years, with just the two of us at home, we became
casual about going around in our underwear.  Occasionally, I'll
see him naked in the hall after a shower--or he'll run into me in
the nude, on rare occasion.

    I took to wearing loose apparel to hide my physical reaction.
Jason was pleased that I was going modern with my clothing.  But
I still had a problem when we hugged, so I began avoiding full
front-to-front contact.

    The thing I could not avoid was masturbating at night with
images of Jason in my head.  I was very, very aroused by those
images, and afraid that my son would discover my erection and ask
about it.

    We talk about sex--I'd introduced the subject gradually,
starting with very basic concepts when Jason was around eight
years old.  We had and continue to have long discussions about
masturbation.  I taught him about it--not in the flesh, but
carefully with pencil and paper, and many well-chosen words.

    Eventually, we discussed sexual intercourse in detail--I
suppose as only a father and son living alone could do, not to
mention the ease with which the new generation talks about sex.
With a 14-year-old son, the subject of sex comes up continually.
He didn't seem terribly interested in girls, so I didn't push it,
telling him that he would know when that interest arrived.

    I'm fortunate to have the unusual closeness with my son, and
I'm sure the other fathers in the neighborhood would not believe
some of the things that Jason and I discuss.

    I even mentioned sexual experimentation between boys--
touching and pleasuring each other or just looking--as something
that often happens around the time a boy reaches puberty, and for
some time afterward.  I added that while some boys don't
experiment sexually, and some feel it's wrong, this was a normal
growth phase for many boys.

    "Does that sound strange to you, Jason?" I asked.

    "Not really.  Me and Kevin Walsch--"

    "That's, Kevin Walsch and I."  Kevin is Jason's best friend.

    "Yeah.  Kevin Walsch and I . . . we compare dicks sometimes--
but I told you that.  So, I guess . . . touching an' stuff isn't
that weird."

    "It isn't weird at all, as long as nothing is forced.  It has
to be one of those things, like you say, that just happens.  It's
perfectly natural at your age--like masturbating."

    "Cool."

    "And I'd be glad to hear about it if you have experiences
like that."

    "I know, dad," Jason said, smiling his irresistible, boyish
grin, his eyes sparkling more than usual.

    We talked about everything.  He seemed to have no fear
telling me all sorts of events in his life.  From time to time, I
shared with him my own fears and difficulties, as well as
accomplishments.

    But that was the problem--I had developed such trust and
honesty with my son, I would have no choice but to tell the truth
if he asked about the cause of my unexplained erections.  I spent
a great deal of time worrying about this, feeling as if each day
would be the one that Jason discovered my problem.  Yet these
were offset by the times I would see him naked, or just in his
briefs.  The thrill of that washed away my fear for many hours.

    One Friday evening, while taking clean laundry upstairs, I
thought I'd heard an odd sound and stopped at Jason's room,
peering through the opening at the hinged part of the doorway.
In the dim light of dusk, I saw my 14-year-old son lying in bed,
his arm making familiar movements, the sounds of his breaths
confirming my thoughts.  I knew he had begun to masturbate long
before this, but now I was seeing it for the first time--though
in the dim light, I was able to make out little detail.

    I was aroused, captivated, yet I moved away from the door
quietly after a minute or so.  In a few seconds, I heard his
sweet voice moan in pubescent ecstasy.  While he caught his
breath, I went to my bedroom and left the laundry there.  For the
first time since high school, I put on a jockstrap to hide my
erection.

    It was on another Friday that I found myself waiting for
Jason to come home from school.  It was toward the end of the
school year.  Summer was the slow season for my business, so I
did my best, in the warmer months, to be home each day when Jason
returned from school--but always on Fridays.

    I had decided that we needed to talk.  I could keep my secret
no longer.  As far as I was concerned, it didn't help matters
that my son was, at 14, just starting the long journey of
discovering his bodily pleasures.  He was impressionable and had
much to learn.

    "Dad!  Dad!" Jason said, bursting through the door brimming
with enthusiasm, "Guess what happened."

    "I can't wait to hear."  His voice alone aroused my interest
--and I welcomed any excuse to put off my vulgar revelation.

    "I did it.  I experimented--with Kevin Walsch!"

    "Jason--I'm proud of you for telling me."

    "Yeah!  I got a boner in the shower after gym, and turned to
the wall to hide it, but Kevin saw.  Then he got one, and we
waited till all the guys were gone, and touched each other's
dick.  It was awesome!"

    "I'm very happy you liked it."

    "Thanks, dad," he said, exhaling as if he'd been worried.

    "What about Kevin--did he enjoy it, too?"

    "Oh, yeah.  His dick is kinda small, but--is it okay if he
comes over later, and we do more stuff in my room?"

    "Sure," I said, gulping, not knowing how to handle this,
other than to show confidence in my son.  How could I say no
after telling him that experimenting is a natural thing at his
age?  "I'll stay far from the door.  I'll go to the den and do
some accounting."  I noticed an odd look on Jason's face.

    "Well," he said, with a sheepish grin, "it's okay if you
listen at the door for a while--I mean, if you want to."

    "You'd be all right with that, son?"  He'd shocked me.

    "Yeah," Jason said, looking at me as if he could not
understand why I would ask such a question.  "We made a lot of
noise in the locker room, touching our dicks.  So, you can listen
and tell me if I sound manly."

    "Oh, manly.  Yes, I'll look forward to that," I said, smiling
at him and stunned that honesty and intimate talk had come this
far.

    I was happy for Jason, yet I wondered if it might be better
for him if he did some of these things in secret.  It would
certainly be easier on my nervous system.

    "I can tell you're excited for me," Jason said, jumping up to
hug me.

    The hug was my chance to reveal my attraction to him, but I
didn't.  As an excuse, I told myself I might ruin his fun with
Kevin.

    "You're right--I'm very excited," I said, blatantly staring
and smiling at the bulge in Jason's school pants.

    "I guess you can tell I am, too, huh?" he said, standing
tall, as if showing himself off.  It was the first time he had
willingly displayed evidence of an erection.

    "Yes."  I smiled approvingly.  "Looks like Kevin will have a
lot to touch."  I had finally made my son blush, but he was not
to be subdued.

    "Yeah, I got a big one, like you, dad."

    I grinned very broadly, not knowing what to say, hoping that
would be a sufficient response, and truly proud, if not shocked,
that Jason could be so open about these things.  I could never
have discussed anything like this with my father.

    "Good boy.  Just . . . don't be so open about it with the
other boys."

    "I know, dad," he said, trying to sound annoyed that I would
try to instruct him on something he thought was obvious.

    "Sorry," I said, watching him wriggle a bit more than usual.
"And don't masturbate now.  Kevin deserves your full potency."

    "What does that mean?"

    "Hmmm.  For one thing it can mean a fully-hard erection.  Or
it can mean the amount of semen you produce.  Do you shoot, now,
when you have an orgasm?"

    "Yeah.  That's been like a year now."

    "That's very normal, Jason.  I'm glad to hear.  Potency can
also mean that you'll stay erect for a long time, or pay a lot of
attention to your partner, or friend."

    "Oh, I get it.  Thanks, dad.  Okay, I'll wait."

    "Good."

    My son seemed perfectly calm.  I was a nervous wreck.  I
wasn't worried that the boys would do anything bad, but I was
sexed to the breaking point.  If I had to guess, I would say this
was the most arousing conversation I'd ever had.

    "Oh, I gotta take a shower.  Kev and I promised we'd do
that."

    "You go ahead.  I'll bring you some towels.  I did laundry
today."  Among other things, doing laundry recently meant there
would be no towels in the bathrooms, temporarily.

    Sitting on the couch, imagining what Jason looked like, naked
in the shower, I played with myself like a teenager.  My erection
was certainly stiff as a teen's.

    I was disappointed that Jason came out wrapped in a towel,
then delighted when he removed it to dry his hair.

    "See?" he said, holding his penis momentarily, "Can you tell
I'm not soft all the way?"  His obvious uninhibited pride in his
body was truly endearing.

    "I can tell."  I was tense with desire, watching Jason, fully
naked, as he finished drying his hair.

    "Well," he said, extending his arms, towel in one hand, "how
do I look?"

    "Clothing is not an issue, I see."  At this, my boy giggled,
as only young teens can do.

    "Well, I'm gonna get dressed, dad!  You know what I mean.
How do I look?"

    I paused, knowing what I would have liked to say, but,
unwilling to say it, I tried to phrase a more reserved answer
that would be truthful.

    "You look . . . incredibly good, son."  I wondered when his
hormones would kick in and give him an erection on the spot.

    Apparently Jason had no answer for this, and merely grinned.
But my own hormones ran wild, and I went to him, slapping his
little butt.

    "That's for good luck," I said, thinking it sounded a bit
lame, but would do as an excuse to have touched his bare skin.

    Jason grinned.  No blush, no sign of shame or embarrassment.
As a matter of fact, I thought he was quite shameless, waving his
penis at me as he turned to get dressed.

    I enjoyed the brief show thoroughly, and was glad he turned
away, lest he see me drool at him.  I heard him giggle as he went
up the stairs.  I imagined he suddenly felt he was growing up,
and the thought must have thrilled him.

    Soon, Jason returned, fully dressed.  No question for me this
time about his appearance.

    "Is Kevin coming over before or after dinner?"

    It had been a while since I'd seen Kevin, and I tried to
picture how the boy might look now.

    The doorbell rang.

    "Before.  I bet that's him now," Jason said, racing to the
door.

    "Remember," I said, hugging his shoulders and whispering in
his ear, "always respect each other."

    I should have known Jason would have Kevin over as soon as
possible.  Young teen erections do not like to wait.

    I had to suppress a sigh as Kevin entered.  The boy was
Jason's age, 14--tall, thin, with shiny dark hair, green eyes, a
beautiful face and smile--a truly exquisite boy.  He was
perfectly at ease with me and Jason in the living room.

    "Hello, Kevin," I said, standing to greet him.

    "Hi, Mister Millerson."

    "It's four o'clock, now," I said.  "Will you be having dinner
with us, Kevin?"

    "Oh.  I guess . . . I should call my mom."

    "You can call from my room," Jason offered, and the two of
them took off.

    I hesitated to go running to my son's door, but my nerves and
erection would not let me sit still.

    "Okay, thanks, mom," I heard Kevin say.  "Yeah, I'll remember
to thank him."

    Then, I could not make out what happened.

    At that point I got one of my snoop microphones and put it in
the spare room, on a wall whose other side was close to the area
of Jason's bed.  Since I was a private detective, such equipment
was always at hand.

    "YES!" Kevin shouted.  "I can stay for dinner AND overnight!"
I could hear much better after hooking up the mic to my audio
system.

    "Oh, God!" Jason said jubilantly.  This was accompanied by
rustling and shuffling of feet.  I imagined they hugged each
other, though that was a mere guess.

    "Yeah, take that shirt off," Kevin said.

    "What about you?" Jason asked.

    "Okay, I'm taking mine off, too."

    "Kev--why don't we take off the same thing at the same time?"

    "Cool.  We'll undress together.  Shoes and socks next."

    "No shit, Kevin--our pants won't come off over our shoes."

    "Okay, okay.  Sometimes they do if you force 'em"

    "Hurry up."

    Eventually they were down to their briefs.

    "Um, why don't you pull yours down first, Jason."

    "No--we do it together.  One, two, three, down!"

    "Damn.  I still can't believe yours is so big."

    "Yours is a good size, Kev.  You'll grow.  Mmm, feels hot to
my hand."

    "Yeah, yours too.  You wanna jerk each other off?"

    "Sure.  Our hands are in the right places."

    I felt a bit foolish with an erection, sitting on my bed with
my headphones on, listening to two boys glory in their nakedness.
I resisted the temptation to masturbate, settling for a few
squeezes and rubs as I listened.

    "Jason, you use lube, right?"

    "Yeah, I better get it."

    "My dick feels cold without your hand on it, hurry up."

    "Okay, Kev.  Um, lube is sorta messy, so I wanna try this
first."

    "What are you doing?"

    "Getting on my knees so I can do you."

    "You're gonna put this in your mouth?"

    "You don't want me to, Kev?"

    "No--I mean yeah, do it!  Oh, shit!  God, that feels good.
Urrrnnnnh.  Jason, I'm gonna come."

    "Mmmm."

    There were many sounds--slurping, moaning, finally Kevin
shouting.

    "I'm cummin--ah!  Uhhhhhh!  UH!"

    I heard Kevin's heavy breathing begin to slow down.  The boy
panted for quite a while.

    "That was hot.  You taste good, Kev.  I'm real horny now."

    "Jason, you took my cum in your mouth and swallowed it!"

    "Yeah, I said it tasted good."

    "I--I don't know, Jase.  I don't think you shouldda done
that.  I better go."

    "No.  You can't leave now.  I'm so horny!"

Dennis B.
StoriesNew@Yahoo.com
Any comments would be great!  Thanks for reading.  --Dennis.

Continued in chapter 2.