Date: Tue, 10 Apr 2012 20:52:14 -0700 (PDT)
From: Jerlar <jetdesk2@yahoo.com>
Subject: New Shower, Part 12 - Next Generation

This story contains graphic sexual scenes between males. If material of
this nature offends you then you should not read this story.  Additionally,
if you are under 18 years of age in most states you are not allowed to read
this story by law.
  This story is purely a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to person's
living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely
coincidental.
  The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication or
publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to which it
has been posted, without the consent of the author.

Mark Stevens


New Shower, Part 12 -- Next Generation


	Another year passed rather quickly for us, and we were still living
with Mom and Dad. I thought about taking Brandon and moving back home, but
every time I brought it up, Mom or Dad would throw a fit.
	Mom would say, "That's absolutely ridiculous, Steve. Besides,
Brandon likes living here," she would add.
	And Dad would say, "Your Mom's right, Steve. Brandon is happy here,
and it's not good moving a kid back and forth."
	I would smile and drop the matter. Although what my parents said
was the truth. My son loved living with my parents, and now hardly ever
asked about his mother. Debbie had been gone over a year, and I had no idea
where she was. The first few months after she left us I kept hoping she
would come back. Now my gut feeling was she wasn't, and what surprised me
was the fact I didn't really care. Brandon and I had made it this long
without her; we could make it on our own.
	Of course, there was another reason my father wanted us to remain
in his house. Shortly after my sixteenth birthday, many years ago, he and I
had started playing sexually, and now, with me living back at home, it was
easier to have a little fun now and then. He was always working out in the
tool shed, and I could usually manage a quick trip out there for a fast
blow job, and sometimes even a quick fuck, depending on how much time we
could spend together.
	So, for now, my son and I, we would continue living with my
parents. I still had my own home, but when Debbie, my wife, left, I needed
help with Brandon, so I had decided to close it up and move back home. I
checked with my Home Owner's insurance and found out the amount of time I
needed to spend there in order to keep insurance coverage; as a result, I
would sleep in my own bed three or four nights each month, in order to keep
the property covered.
	As I was getting dressed for work, I remembered this was Friday,
and my plans were to spend the night in my own home. I thought about
throwing a bag together and then changed my mind. I could do it just as
easily after work. After all, it wasn't like I couldn't wait to get
there. Brandon had only spent a night there once with me, due to the fact,
I was pretty sure, he didn't want to think about his mother. It was usually
a very long night for me, and I could hardly wait to get back to my
parent's home.
	As I walked out of my room and headed for the stairs, my son called
my name.
	I stepped inside the door way.
	"What's on your mind, Brandon?"
	"Are you going to spend tonight at our old house?"
	I walked into the room and sat beside him on the bed. He was
covered with a sheet, but even so, I could see how much he was growing. His
last day of school for the year had been the day before, and I couldn't
keep from admiring his body. He had certainly grown this last school year.
	"Why are you awake?" I gave him a grin. "Did you forget this is the
first day of summer vacation?"
	My son scooted up on his bottom, his back pressed against the
headboard of the bed.
	"I didn't forget," he told me. "I just thought if you would like
some company tonight I could go with you."
	I was surprised by his words. Usually Brandon wanted nothing at all
to do with our old house. He was quite content to live with Nana and
Grandpa, and he often told me so.
	"Are you sure about that?"
	He nodded. "I am; that is, if you don't mind."
	"Of course I don't mind, Brandon. "Tell you what; think about this
some more, and if you still want to, pack a bag. I still have to do one for
me when I get home from work."
	I watched as Brandon slid back down in bed. This time the sheet
pressed against his body, and I couldn't help but see where his cock
was. He definitely had morning wood poking underneath the sheet.
	I looked into his face and smiled. "I'll see you after work,
Brandon. Enjoy your first day of vacation."
	"See you, Dad."
	I hurried down stairs. Mom was in the kitchen.
	"Morning, Mom," I greeted her with a smile.
	"Good morning, Steve."
	"Is Dad already gone?" I asked.
	"I think he's in the shower. He's running a bit behind this
morning."
	I poured myself a cup of coffee. "I'll take this with me," I told
her. "My talk with Brandon put me a little behind schedule too."
	"Is he awake?"
	"He was, but he's probably already back in dreamland."
	"What was on his mind?"
	"He asked if I was going to the old house this evening and if so,
could he come with me."
	"Brandon asked to go to your house?"
	"I know; he surprised me too. I told him to think about it, and if
he still wanted to come, I'd pick him up after work."
	Mom was thoughtful a moment. Then she said, "That will be nice; the
two of you spending some time together."
	"I thought so."
	I snapped the lid on my coffee cup and headed for the door. "Tell
Dad to get his ass in gear or he's going to be late."
	"What's that, you say?"
	I turned and saw my father walking into the kitchen. "I said, `good
morning, Dad'."
	"It didn't sound like that to me."
	I opened the kitchen door. "I've got to run. Fill him in, Mom," I
said and closed the door behind me.




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	I was on my lunch break when my father joined me in the break
room. We both worked for the U. S. Postal Service, but he had put in almost
twenty years before I started my career.
	He sat down at the table. "Your mom tells me that Brandon wants to
go with you this evening." He smiled at me. "I'm really glad."
	"I'm sure you're as surprised about it as I am," I said.
	He nodded. "I was. However, I'm glad he is going. It will do you
both good."
	I looked across the table at a man I loved very much; not only as a
parent, but as a lover as well. "Would you like to join us? I'm sure Mom
would love some quiet time."
	My father looked at me for a moment. There was no mistaking the
love that I saw in his eyes. "I would love that," he assured me. "However,
I think this time will be good for you and Brandon."
	There was so much more we wanted to say, but we both knew it was
not the place. Instead, I reached across and placed a hand over his. "Maybe
next time," I said, giving him a gentle smile.
	"Maybe," he said standing to his feet. "If I miss you at home, you
two enjoy your time together. Are you spending both nights?"
	"I'm not certain. Guess I'll play it by ear."
	My father walked out of the room, and I finished my lunch and went
back to work.
	The afternoon passed quickly, and I was soon on my way
home. Throughout the day I thought about Brandon and couldn't help but
wonder whether or not he still planned on spending the night with me in our
old home.
	I pulled up in front of my parent's house and hurried up the
steps. I opened the door and walked into the kitchen. Mom was taking
something from the oven. She turned and greeted me with a smile.
	"I fixed you and Brandon chicken casserole to take with you this
evening. Thought you might appreciate something to eat in and not have to
go out."
	"Thanks, Mom. You're the best," I said. "Is Brandon planning on
going with me?" I was almost afraid to ask the question.
	"I believe he is," she answered. "He told me earlier this afternoon
he was packed and ready to go."
	My heart gave a leap in my chest, and I had a hard time forcing it
to slow down. I headed down the hall for the stairs.
	When I reached the top, I called out, "Brandon, I'm home."
	I heard a board in the floor squeak. "I'm all packed, Dad," he
greeted.
	I gave him a smile. "I'm glad. Just give me a minute and I'll be
ready."
	He followed me and sat on my bed, watching as I began throwing
things in my bag.
	"Dad?"
	I paused and looked up at my son. I was still amazed at how much he
had grown this past year. He was definitely taller; much taller than most
thirteen year old boys. Of course, I was six feet and my own father towered
over me by an inch or two, so it stood to reason Brandon would be tall like
us. His voice was starting to change. When he spoke, I never knew if it was
going to squeak high or low, until the words came out.
	"What, Son?"
	"I've thought a lot about this weekend."
	I sat down on the bed beside him. Even though I didn't want to
speak the words, I realized I had to. "Brandon, if you're having second
thoughts about going, I will understand perfectly if you change your mind."
	My son's face took on a startled look. "But I want to go," he
assured me. "That is, if you still want me."
	If I still wanted him? My heart melted. Without thinking, I reached
out and pulled him to me. "Oh, Brandon, I always enjoy time with
you. You're my world, Son; always know that."
	My son gave me an awkward hug and then pulled away. I think he was
embarrassed about the hug. I tried to make him feel at ease.
	"Sorry about that, Brandon," I said. "Your old man just gets
sentimental at times. Forgive me?"
	"It's okay."
	I looked at him for another moment and then stood to my feet. "I'll
finish with my packing, and then we can be on our way. Grandma has made a
delicious smelling casserole to take with us."
	"Is Grandpa dropping by this evening?"
	"I invited him, but he opted not to. He thought the two of us would
like some time together."
	"I think I would like that."
	"Good, then let's get our evening started."
	I picked up my bag, and we hurried out the door and down the
stairs. In the kitchen Mom handed me a box.
	"Here's your dinner," she said. "There's a salad and two pieces of
chocolate pie," she added.
	Brandon reached out and took the box from me. "Thanks, Grandma."
	"You two have a good time. We'll see you whenever you decide to
return."
	We made the trip back to town surrounded by a comfortable
silence. It was a nice feeling, just sharing the nearness of my son next to
me on the seat.
	When I pulled into the drive, Brandon asked, "Is there pop in the
frig?"
	"I stocked up on plenty last time I was here. Beer, too," I added
with a grin.
	"Oh, do I get to drink beer with you?"
	If I hadn't seen how sincere my son looked, I would have
laughed. Instead, I smiled and said, "You know your grandma would skin me
alive if I let you have beer."
	Brandon shrugged his shoulders and said, "Just thought I'd ask."
	"Give yourself a few more years, and I would be honored to share a
beer with you," I said.
	We hurried inside the house, and I turned the air on. "I should
have thought of this earlier today. It's hotter than hell in here."
	"It'll cool down."
	I watched as my son headed down the hall to his old room. I still
wasn't sure he was too thrilled to be here. I was surprised when he
returned to the living room.
	"Can I ask you something, Dad?"
	"Anything, Brandon; what's on your mind?"
	"Would you mind if I slept with you tonight?'
	Oh, God, I thought. I wondered if I could handle having him next to
me in bed. Aloud I said, "If that's what you want, it's perfectly all right
with me."
	I watched as he turned and disappeared down the hall once more. I
had carried the food box into the house; I sat it down on the counter top
in the kitchen.
	Coming back into the living room, I picked up my bag and carried it
to my room. When I came inside, I found my son sitting on the side of my
bed. He had a funny look on his face.
	I threw my bag in a chair and hurried over to him. Sitting beside
him, I asked, "What's wrong, Brandon?"
	He looked at me, and I couldn't help but see the sadness in his
eyes.
	I wanted to hug my son; pull him to me and never let him go, but,
of course, he would never allow that. I waited for him to say something.
	"She's not coming back."
	I tried to focus on what he had said. Finally I asked, "Are you
talking about Mom?"
	He nodded.
	When he didn't speak, I said, "I think if she were coming back she
would have by now."
	"I know."
	"Do you ever hear from her?"
	"I talked with her on the telephone about a month after she
left. That was the first and only time," I told him.
	"Do you hate her?"
	That knocked me on my ass. "Do I hate your mother?
	Again, he nodded.
	I wasn't sure how to answer his question. Actually, I wasn't sure
how I felt about the woman I had loved; the mother of my son.
	"Brandon, when she left, at first, I will admit, I was mad as
hell. Not at you." I was quick to assure him of that fact. "Whatever the
reason, Brandon, you had nothing to do with your mother leaving."
	"But I thought she said she had never had a life and wanted to get
out and see what was out there. Wasn't that the words you said she used?"
	I lost myself in thought, trying to remember exactly what Debbie
had said at the time.
	"Yeah, I guess it was something like that," I finally
agreed. "Again, if anyone is to blame, it would be me. I was the one she
settled down with, married, and started a family at a very young age."
	When my son remained silent, I felt I had to say something, had to
do whatever it took to help him over this hurdle.
	"Brandon, I'm going to say something here, and I want you to take
it in the right way. I could never hate your mother because she was the one
who gave me you. I know that may sound crazy to you, but, it's the
truth. Son, you are the best thing ever to come into my life, and your
mother did that for me. I'm not going to tell you how to feel about her,
but, I can say one thing: if you allow hatred to over come you where she's
concerned, it will only make you a very miserable person. Can you
understand that?"
	My son sat on the bed with his head hung down for a long
time. Finally he looked me in the eye. "I may not hate her, but I sure as
hell don't like her very much, Dad."
	I grinned big, and no matter how hard I tried to wipe it from my
face, I couldn't do it. This was so like my son, to come up with something
like that.
	Then the grin turned into a laugh. When I could speak, I said,
"Well, hell, I don't like her either. So there!"
	My son surprised me by reaching out and giving me a hug.
	"I love you, Dad."
	"I love you, too, Brandon."



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	Our evening meal over, we both had enjoyed the food my mother had
prepared for us. In fact, there had been enough left over for another meal,
should we decide to stay the following night as well.
	Afterward, I cleaned up the kitchen and joined Brandon in the
living room. He chose a movie, and we settled back to watch it. As we sat
there, one on each end of the sofa, I couldn't keep the warm feeling that
kept spreading throughout my body. It felt so good sharing the evening with
just my son.
	When the movie was over, I said, "Why don't we get our showers out
of the way? We can watch a movie on the television in my room; that is, if
you'd like that."
	My son gave me a warm smile. "I would."
	I aimed the remote for the TV and shut it off. "Then that's what
we'll do."
	Brandon left the room. I turned the lights out and headed down the
hall to my room. I found him pulling some shorts out of his bag.
	I smiled and said, "You want to use the family bath or the one in
here?"
	"I can use the family bath," he said.
	"Sounds good to me," I said.
	I watched as he left the room, and couldn't keep my cock from
moving through my pubes.
	"Stop that," I said giving it a slap with my hand.
	Which was stupid; as if that was going to help the situation, I
thought to myself.
	"Stop it." I spoke the words out loud. "Jesus, he's just thirteen
years old," I reminded myself. "I will not allow anything to take place
between us."
	I quickly jumped out of my clothes and headed for the shower. After
I adjusted the water, I stepped inside and closed the shower door. How good
the water felt as the needles punched into my skin. I breathed in deeply,
enjoying the hot steam as it began to feel the shower stall.
	I soaped my body down, enjoying the touch of my fingers on my
skin. Immediately my cock sprang up, and without thinking, I reached down
and grasped it. Maybe I should jack off. It would certainly make things
easier when I went to bed with my son; help me to remain on my side of the
bed.
	Then for some reason, I stopped playing with myself. I wouldn't
jack off; and further more, I would make myself behave later when I was
sleeping with my thirteen year old son.
	I washed down my body, shut the water off, and opened the
door. When I reached for the towel on the rack, I jumped back into the
shower. Sitting on the commode was my son.
	And between my legs, pointing up through my thick wet bush was my
very hard cock!
	"Shit, Brandon, you scared the hell out of me!"
	Brandon stood to his feet and reached for the towel. "Here," he
said, "I think you need this." He gave me a shitty grin.
	I quickly took it from him and covered myself.
	"I didn't think there was any reason to mess of two showers," he
said.
	"I don't mind you using this one." I was quick to assure him of
that fact. "You just surprised me when I opened the door."
	"I could see that."
	"Go on, get your shower," I told him.
	I went to the sink and began brushing my teeth. I could see in the
mirror as Brandon dropped his shorts. However, he made it into the shower
without me seeing anything naked about him except his ass. I did manage a
quick look at the nice looking mounds that made up his bottom.
	I never took so long brushing my teeth before. The longer I
brushed, the longer Brandon seemed to take with his shower. Finally I
thought, "Fuck that." I wrapped a towel around my body and walked over and
sat down on the commode. Two could play that game, I thought.
	I didn't have to wait very long before my son shut the water off. I
had brought an extra towel with me, so I waited for him to open the door. I
would give him a taste of his own medicine.
	The lock snapped, and the glass door opened out into the room.
	And I saw my son, naked for the first time in several months.
	He had about the same look on his face as I had.
	I grinned and said, "I thought I'd wait on you." I handed him his
towel.
	He took it, but not before I was allowed to see the front side of
his nakedness. He still had very little body hair, but the brown hair
around his dick was definitely thicker than the last time I had seen it. It
had developed into a full grown bush of thick really dark brown curls. Ah,
mouth watering, I thought to myself.
	I didn't have much time to admire his body before my son covered it
with the towel.
	"Are you ready for the movie?"
	"Think we should get dressed first?"
	"I'm on my way."
	I hurried into my bedroom, and not caring my son was on my heels, I
dropped my towel. By this time my dick had gone down, so I had nothing to
be embarrassed about.
	I reached for a pair of shorts and pulled them up. As I watched,
Brandon, with his back to me, dropped his shorts. Again, his nice firm ass
was all I saw; and that was enough to cause my dick to stir again.
	I quickly headed for the bed and pulled the covers back.
	"Let's see what's on television," I said.
	We ended up finding another movie we were both interested in, and
settled with our backs against the headboard. By the time it was over, we
both were more than ready for sleep.
	"I'm really glad you came over tonight, Brandon," I said reaching
for the lamp beside the bed. I gave it a twist and the room was suddenly
dark.
	"Me, too, Dad," he said. "Night."
	"Goodnight, Brandon.
	I must have fallen right to sleep. I don't know how long I slept
when something caused me to wake up. I opened my eyes and listened. I
wasn't sure what had disturbed me. I didn't move, but forced my body to lie
perfectly still.
	Then I knew the answer. Rather, I felt it. The bed was moving just
a tiny bit. I listened. Sure enough, I could hear friction against skin. My
God, my son was in bed next to me, jacking off.
	The thought was so fucking hot that my dick immediately grew hard
inside my shorts. It moved so quickly it took some of my pubic hair with
it, causing me to sigh.
	The friction sound stopped immediately.
	Damn!
	I forced myself to breathe as shallow as possible, willing my body
not to move in any way. I lay there. I waited.
	A very long minute must have passed.
	Then I heard the sound once again.
	Friction against skin.
	The bed began to move a little more as my son's hand moved a little
faster on his dick. By this time I knew he was close to shooting, because
he was not as cautious as before.
	Suddenly he groaned. I knew he had shot; maybe even was still
shooting, young as he was. Oh, God, I needed to cum, I thought to myself. I
knew there would be no way in hell I could go back to sleep now; not before
I had shot my own load.
	I thought about going into the bathroom. Then being horny, I guess
I started thinking with the wrong head, as they say. I slid my hands down
to my shorts and quietly pulled them down far enough to free my hard
cock. The front of my shorts was soaked from the pre cum I had already
lost.
	I looked across the bed, but the darkness kept me from seeing my
son. I began playing with my dick making slow movements up and down my now
wet shaft. Whether it was due to the fact my son was just inches away from
me, or that I was just fucking horny, I didn't have a clue. I just know it
didn't take much stroking before my cock shot out a huge thick creamy
load. It landed on my chest just above my pubes, and then slowly crawled
back down in the middle of those sticky curls.
	Ah, I thought to myself, I can sleep now.
	I didn't even bother to clean myself up. Instead, I pulled my
shorts up and turned over on my side. I fell to sleep immediately.



Then End Part 12

Mark