Date: Mon, 4 Mar 2002 14:53:32 -0800 (PST)
From: incestadvice@yahoo.com
Subject: Urine Test (father/son incest, consensual)

the author loves feedback!

When my son Michael was 13 years old I suspected him
of falling in with the wrong crowd at school. His
wardrobe and attitude changed dramatically for the
worse, and I started hearing bad reports from his
school counselor. His grades began to fall too, and he
would often come home past curfew seeming a little
addled or confused.

My wife and I agreed that it was time to get tough. We
worked out a careful plan of privileges and
punishments to be awarded on the basis of Michael's
behavior. We also forbade him from leaving the house
on weekdays unless it was with one of us.

The final step was regular drug testing. Each month I
would hand Michael a small cup and ask him to fill it.
He would slouch off to the bathroom and come back a
few minutes later with a warm cup full of urine. I'd
put the urine into a special container and mail it off
to an out-of-state drug testing company.

The first few months revealed traces of marijuana in
his system. Michael assured me that he had quit
smoking pot, and that these trace amounts would show
up for a while no matter what. The drug testing
company said that this was possible but unlikely.

Michael's grades went back up and his teachers began
to report that he was doing better. His weird little
friends quit hanging around our house and things
started to improve.

About two months before summer break, Michael suddenly
backslid. His grades dropped (not quite as badly as
before) and he stayed out too late a few times. He
also came home red-eyed and a bit too jovial. But his
urine tests were coming up clean.

So at the end of the month I told Michael that he
could no longer give urine samples alone in the
bathroom. He would have to do it in front of me.

We went into his bedroom and shut the door because
Michael didn't want to expose himself to his mother.
He was already red with embarrassment as I handed him
the cup. He turned away from me and unzipped his
pants, but I said that I had to observe. So he turned
back towards me and pulled out his penis.

He had very little hair on it, a nice full scrotum,
and a decent length and shape. He continued to blush
as he stood there pulling slightly on it, muttering
things like "come on!" and "geez!"

I told him, "Michael, I know this is difficult with me
watching, but you did this to yourself, and made it
hard for us to trust you."

He continued to strain. Finally a few drops spilled
into the cup, and then finally a strong stream.

When the cup was nearly full I said "that's enough
now" and reached for it. With some effort, my son
stopped his stream and handed me the cup, then quickly
stuffed his penis back into his pants and zipped up.

I left the room and mailed off the sample.

Later that night as I was falling asleep next to my
wife, an image of my son's penis kept coming into my
head. I became excited and erect while thinking about
it, much to my surprise. I had not experienced any
homosexual contact since I was a teenager, and had no
fantasies since then, but I just couldn't get my son's
penis out of my mind.

That weekend Michael went out to the mall with my wife
and I took the opportunity to thoroughly search his
room. I did find the remnants of a stash -- seeds,
bits of leaves, etc. -- but I also found something
else. Michael had hidden a brown paper sack in a
ceiling panel. When I found it I expected to see drugs
and paraphernalia, but instead I found stacks of
pornographic magazines.

There were the usual mainstream magazines, like
Playboy, Penthouse and Hustler, but also some hardcore
porn. To my surprise, there were also magazines
featuring naked men -- again, mainstream ones like
Playgirl but also hardcore ones featuring explicit
sex. In addition, there were two copies of a little
magazine called "Handjobs."

I sat down in his room to peruse the gay magazines.
One of them was called "Father Knows Best" (what a
cliche!, I though) and was all about father-son sex.
The "father" was always middle-aged hairy man, usually
with a few gray hairs, and the "son" was always a
young adult, clearly over 18. One pictorial showed the
"father" being seduced by two "sons."

I realized I was erect and breathing hard. I set aside
the magazine and picked up a copy of Handjobs. It was
even more explicit, despite its lack of photos. It had
graphic stories of sex between fathers and sons as
well as drawings actually showing adult men having sex
with teenage boys.

I put everything back into the brown bag and replaced
the bag in Michael's hiding place. Then I went to the
bathroom and jerked off. I had the most powerful
orgasm of my adult life. And the whole time I was
thinking about me and my son, naked together, playing
with each other's cocks.

As the days passed, I thought more and more about my
new obsession. It didn't help that Michael clearly had
similar thoughts. I tested his interest by walking
around the house nearly-naked a few times and watching
his eyes glance at my bulge over and over again. I let
him walk in on me while urinating or showering a few
times and I could not help but notice his stalling
tactics so that he could see my equipment as long as
possible.

By the time the end of the month rolled around, I had
a plan.

I waited until the last Thursday of the month when I
knew my wife would be out of the house for hours. I
lounged around in just my bathrobe, making sure that
my son caught a few glimpses of my crotch throughout
the evening.

After a sort of late dinner, I sent him to his room to
do homework. I went to the kitchen and got the cup I
use to collect his urine samples, then went back to
his room.

He was in his nightclothes -- pajama bottoms and a
T-shirt -- sitting at his desk studying. I told him it
was time for his monthly urine test.

He blushed, but stood up and reached for the cup
without saying a word. By instinct, he turned away,
and in that moment I loosened my robe a bit. Gently, I
put my hand on his shoulder and asked him to turn
around so I could see.

I left my hand on his shoulder as he struggled to push
down his pajama bottoms.. I chuckled and said,
"Michael, it might be easier if you used two hands,"
because he was still holding the cup in his left hand.
We both laughed and he handed the cup back to me. Then
he pushed his pajamas down to his thighs, freeing up
his beautiful penis.

He took the cup back and held it below with one hand
while squeezing and pulling at his cock with the other
hand.

"Man, Dad, I just peed a few minutes ago, I'm sorry."

"Keep trying, Michael."

As he kept straining and fiddling with himself, I
noticed that he was starting to get erect. So was I.
When it became obvious that he was half-hard, my son
began to blush a lot, and stammered out some excuse
about being unable to pee when he had a "boner."

I figured the time was right. I opened my robe and
showed him my full erection.

"I know what you mean, Michael. I can't pee when I'm
hard either. Let me help you."

I reached out and gently took his penis in my hand. It
was so warm! And when I held it I felt it throb in
response and swiftly grow to full hardness.

"Is this OK, Michael?" I whispered.

My son nodded and managed to squeak, "Yeah!"

"Do it to me, too," I suggested. And then we began to
masturbate each other.

I stepped closer so that our cocks would touch, and
soon we were practically hugging, with our cocks
shaft-to-shaft, while stroking and rubbing each
other's shafts and sacks.

I slid one hand around his back to cup his buttocks
and he sighed with pleasure. I couldn't resist any
more -- I dropped to my knees and gave his penis a few
kisses, then looked up at him and said "Is this OK?"

He nodded again, and so, cupping his buttocks with
both hands, I took my son's cock into my mouth.

It was the perfect size. My memories of sucking my
friends' cocks as a teenager came rushing back to me,
and soon I was moving at a quick pace. I was able to
take his whole cock in my mouth until my nose was
pressing against his nearly-hairless abdomen.

Michael whimpered and sighed the entire time. Towards
the end, he warned me that he was going to orgasm; I
stopped sucking long enough to tell him that he should
do it in my mouth. I sucked fiercely as I felt his
penis pulse between my lips, and swallowed gratefully
as he deposited his salty, delicious cum in my mouth.

As I stood up to hug him, my son grabbed my still-hard
cock, and asked if he could do it to me, too. I nodded
and laid down on his bed, instructing him to climb
between my spread legs.

It was such a joy to see his lips engulf me, to feel
his fingertips playing with my scrotum, to hear his
delicate sighs as he tried to catch his breath every
now and then.

Like him, I could not last long with such pleasurable
treatment. As I drew near to climax, I lifted his head
away from my cock, and warned him that I'd be cumming
soon. He smiled and nodded, then returned to servicing
me. As I finally climaxed I held his head with both
hands and wrapped my legs around his back, flooding
his throat with paternal sperm. Except for an initial
gagging, my son managed to swallow all of it.

As he cuddled up next to me, I glanced at his bedside
clock. His mother would not be home for another hour
yet. Plenty of time for more fun.

While we laid there in his bed, stroking each other
back to hardness, Michael told me that the "bad crowd"
he had fallen in with was just a bunch of closeted gay
teens who used drugs and alcohol to deal with their
status as second-class citizens. He said that most of
them were openly gay with each other, but had to
remain closeted at school. That was where he had
gotten most of the pornographic magazines.

I asked him if he had ever fooled around with any of
them, and he nodded shyly. After a little prodding for
details he told me that he had kissed and groped a
couple of them, and had sucked the cock of another
one, but that was it.

By this time we were both fully erect again and I
suggested a 69. Michael was eager to try this
position, having seen it in the magazines, and so he
already knew to reverse position and climb on top of
me.

As he began to suck my cock again, I told him that he
didn't have to worry about hurting me, and that he
could be as vigorous as he liked.

That was all the permission he needed. Michael thrust
his hips up and down into my face, really fucking my
mouth pretty hard. It was easy to take because of his
penis size. It became even easier when he developed a
rhythm.

His orgasm came first, of course. His hip thrusts
became more urgent, and then at the end he simply
pressed his hips against my face and unloaded directly
into the back of my mouth. It was so wonderful.

After I swallowed his offering, I focused on my own
impending orgasm. I sucked and licked at Michael's ass
while he fervently worshipped my cock. When I tongued
his butthole he moaned loudly and shivered with
pleasure. He quickly got the idea to play with my ass
too, and when I felt his fingertip first rub against
my asshole, I began to ejaculate into his mouth.

Michael stroked my cock as he sucked the sperm out of
it. When I was finally finished, we cuddled again. I
checked the clock and saw that my wife would be home
soon.

We cleaned ourselves up and promised each other that
this would be our secret, and that we would do it as
often as possible.

Soon I taught him the joys of anal sex, but that is a
story for another time.

incestadvice@yahoo.com