Date: Thu, 19 Jul 2001 11:26:18 -0400
From: Lee Schenk <jlee0442@hotmail.com>
Subject: "My Tim" Chapter 1

The following is the first chapter of "My Tim." The
story is completely fictional and contains explicit
descriptions of sexual activity between a father and
his young son over the years. The story contains no
violence, and all sexual activity is with the complete
consent of all the persons involved. Anyone who is
offended or otherwise disgusted by this kind of
material should read no further. The author welcomes
any comments about this story or his writing style.
However, if all you want is to condemn me, don't
bother.  I ask you why are you in Nifty and this
particular story area if you aren't interested
yourself.  So forget the flames.  However,
constructive suggestions are welcome. Send to: Lee at
jlee0442@hotmail.com


My Tim

Chapter 1 - How It All Begins


Where do I begin?  Tim, a blond, blue-eyed, nearly 14
year old eighth grader, is my son, my best friend, and
my lover.  Yes, that's right, I said my lover.  I try
to think how this all began, this supposedly immoral
incestuous relationship which most would condemn.
Yet, this is a relationship so complete and so perfect
I can not imagine it not being.  So condemn me if you
will, but I want you to know our story before you
judge.

My Tim was a sexual being as far back as I can
remember.  His fascination with the penis, both his,
mine, and any others he might happen to see in the
restroom or swimming locker room, was complete from
the time he could just toddle.

Let me say, I am a single parent.  My wife of a two
years left Tim and me shortly before Tim was a year
old.  She left with no word and to this day I have no
idea where she is.  Therefore, I have been the only
real parent Tim has ever known.  Both my parents are
dead and I was an only child.  I did not know if my
wife had a family.  I never met them, she never
mentioned them, and I never asked.  So, in essence, it
was and is Tim and I together.

I am gay and although I make no secret of it, it is
not something I've announced to the world.  I tried to
live the straight life, even tried marriage to give my
life the illusion of normalcy, but it didn't work.  So
when my wife departed, I decided I would not go that
route again.

But this is not about me, a 36-year-old man named Jim.
It is about Tim, my Tim, and us together loving and
helping each other become what and who we really are.

As I said before, Tim was always a sexual creature.
When I'd change his diaper and wipe his little penis
with a baby-wipe, his peanut of a penis invariably
became hard, and his little hand would reach down and
fondle it.  This also happened when I gave him his
bath.  Now perhaps this is normal.  I have no
experience with babies other than Tim.

When he was about two, I decided it would be easier if
we took a bath together since I usually became
drenched in the process.  He loved it!  And the first
thing he noticed was my flaccid penis.  He couldn't
quit looking at it and trying to touch it. I tried,
for the most part unsuccessfully, to divert his
attention.  My penis was just too fascinating for the
little tike.  This went on for about a year with me
trying to focus his attention elsewhere while I got
him washed.  Finally one day just after his third
birthday when we were in the bath, he looked up at me
and said, "Daddy, you wash me.  Why don't I wash you?"

I said, "That's what Daddies do.  They wash their
little boys, but Daddies are grown men and they don't
need help washing."

"But I want to wash you, Daddy," Tim replied.  "Can I
wash you too, please?"

I figured why not and handed him the soap and my wash
rag.  The little imp for about 30 seconds made an
effort to wash me, but then he reached out and grabbed
my penis.  Looking up at me, he smiled and said, "Your
pee-pee is real dirty, Daddy.  I better wash it good."
And that is exactly what he started to do.  I let him
for do this for a little bit.  I didn't want to him to
be inhibited.  But soon I could feel my cock begin to
expand under his washing.  I pushed his hands away and
said, "I think I'm clean enough there.  How about the
rest of me?"

Tim calmly put his hand back on my cock and stated
flatly, "No, Daddy, I don't think it's clean yet.  I
need to wash it some more."

I was taken back by his assertiveness and noticing his
little dick was as hard as a rock and standing up
straight, I pushed his hand away and got out of the
tub.  "We're clean," I announced. "Let's get dried
off."  I bundled him in a towel and patted him down
and then tried to towel myself off.  Tim took his
towel, saying, "I'll help you, Daddy."  He then
immediately started toweling my cock.

I picked him up and took him to our bedroom.  As I
placed him on the bed, I decided to ask him why he
found my penis so interesting.

"Tim, why did you want to wash, Daddy?" I decided the
indirect approach would be better than just cutting to
the chase (or my cock).

"You always help me, so I wanted to help you.  Did I
do something wrong."

"No, my little love, you did nothing wrong.  I'm proud
you wanted to help your Daddy."

"I'd like to help you all the time, Daddy."

"Tim, why did you just wash Daddy's penis-his pee-
pee?"

"Well, I like your pee-pee the best and it's where pee
comes out, so it had to be real dirty."

"That's true.  Our penis does get very dirty because
we use it to go to the bathroom.  But why do you like
my penis the best, Tim."

"I don't know.  I just do.  I like my pee-pee and
yours is so big and all nice and I want to see what it
feels like."

"I understand, Tim."

"Can I feel it again, Daddy, right now?"

"But we're not taking a bath now, Tim.  It's all
clean."

"Yeah, but I still want to touch it. Can I?  As he
asked, he wrapped his little hand around my penis and
looked up in my eyes.

"I don't know, Tim.  Some people would think it was
bad for me to let you touch my penis."

"Why?" he asked innocently, never taking his hand off
my dick.

I was at a loss.  How did I describe the societal
implications to a three-year old?  "This is too hard
to explain to you now, Tim.  Let me just say, that
many people would think I was a bad Daddy if I let you
touch my penis.  They would say I was abusing you."

Tim looked puzzled, "What is aboosing, Daddy?"

I smiled at his mispronunciation, "It means being mean
to you and mistreating you and hurting you."

"But you aren't doing that to me.  You would never
hurt me.  You love me."

"Yes, my little love, you are right.  Daddy would
never hurt you, but that doesn't mean lots of people
would not think I was abusing you if they knew I let
you touch my penis."

Tim thought of what I'd said for moment and then his
face lit up.  "Daddy, we just won't tell anyone else."

"That's very wise of you, Tim.  No we won't ever tell
anyone else that you touched my penis."

When I finished, he once again wrapped his little hand
around my prick.

"What are you doing, Tim?"

"I still want to touch your pee-pee some more."  Then
he paused and thought for a minute.  "Do you think I
am aboosing you, Daddy?"

I smiled and tousled his little tow head, "No, my
little love, I do not think you are abusing me.  I
think you are just a curious boy.  If it makes you
happy and no one ever knows but us, you can touch my
penis.

"I love you, Daddy!"

"Oh, I love you too, Tim.  I love you so much.  Let
Daddy lay down on the bed and then you can explore all
you want."  And that is exactly what I did.  I lay on
the bed and spread my legs and let my nearly 3 year
old son crawl between my naked thighs and fondle my
cock.

Tim was very intent as he played with my dick and
prodded my nut sack and hefted my balls in his little
hands.  I looked down at my exploring boy and smiled,
amused at his intense curiosity.  I did not get hard
since I didn't see it as sexual, merely the sweet
innocence of my son.

Soon he flopped down on the bed beside me, spread his
legs wide, and said, "Your turn Daddy to look at me."
I dutifully climbed between his hairless legs and put
my face down close to his little hard dick which was
laying flat against his bald pubic bone.  His little
pea-sized balls hung in a small hairless, wrinkled
sack.  I'd never really inspected my son's genitalia
that closely.  The doctor, I noted, had done an
excellent job of circumcising him.  His little balls
were so beautiful, as was the rest of him.

Soon he propped himself up on his elbows and looked at
me disgustedly.  "You're not doing it right, Daddy.
You're supposed to touch it while you look."

"Okay, Tim, sorry," I smiled at my son's cute face.
"Lay back down and I'll do it right."

He flopped back down and I heard a sigh as I took his
little peanut between my first finger and thumb.  I
rubbed it a bit and then took his little sack and both
nuts in my hand and felt them.  Then I tenderly
caressed his bald pubic bone and his inner thighs and
the space between his little balls and his baby
asshole.  To my amazement I found my cock was as hard
as it had ever been.  Here I was touching my little
boy and I was getting totally turned on.  I licked my
finger and rubbed it around the small cap of his
cockhead. Tim squirmed and sighed again, saying, "That
feels good, Daddy.  Tickle my pee-pee again."  I
slicked my fingers with spit and rubbed all over his
little peanut.

Tim propped himself up on his elbows and watched me
jerk on his little dick.  That's when he noticed my
cock hard, standing up between my hairy thighs.  I'm
not particularly hung, but a rock hard, oozing 6-inch
dick looked pretty impressive to a 3-year-old.

"Daddy, your pee-pee is stiff too.  Let me touch it
now."  He sprung up and scooted between my legs and
grasp my hard cock without even waiting for my answer.
"You got pee on your pee-pee, Daddy.  It's all
sticky."

"That's not pee, Tim.  It's something a man makes when
he feels really good like I do now.  You have to be
big like me and have hair around your penis to make
the sticky stuff.  But don't worry it won't hurt you."

"I'm not worried, Daddy.  I like your pee-pee best
when it's stiff like this.  It's more fun to touch."

I couldn't believe how hot it was to have my little
boy playing with my dick, which stayed completely hard
but never came close to shooting since he never
established any kind of rhythm.  Soon he was yawning.
I pulled him up and lay him on my naked chest and
rubbed his back for him.  I leaned down and kissed the
top of his little towhead and whispered, "I love you,
my little, love, my Tim."

He sighed, "I love you too, Daddy."  He fidgeted a
little on my chest and until he was comfortable and
drifted off to sleep as I lightly rubbed his back and
bottom and little legs.

My cock was still rock hard and dripping.  As I
stroked my naked, sleeping son's body with one hand, I
took my aching prick in my other hand and with a few
firm strokes I shot one of the biggest loads of my
life, all over me and my sleeping boy.  Afterward I
used my hand to get off as much cum as I could,
licking the juice off my fingers.  I didn't want him
to wake up with dried cum all over his body.  I wasn't
ready to explain that.  Then I turned the light off
and tried to go to sleep.

Sleep didn't come easily.  What came was a severe
attach of conscience.  What had I done?  How could I
let this happen?  I had abused my own little boy-the
absolute light of my life.  I determined that this
would never happen again.  Yet, even as I swore to
myself that I would never take advantage of Tim again,
I knew that Tim's innocence and insistence would get
me to do much the same thing as we'd just done.  He
seemed so eager and so pleased and so happy-and I knew
I would not let my son grow up thinking having a
physical relation with a man was something to be
ashamed of.  If he turned out to be gay, I wanted him
comfortable with his sexuality and proud of himself at
all times, not closeted with guilt like I spent most
of my life.