Date: Wed, 28 Jun 2006 16:02:08 EDT
From: Tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: Shooting on the Fourth

			  SHOOTING ON THE FOURTH
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
			WWW.TOMMYHAWKSROGUEMOON.COM

     "David? David?" Amanda called to me.
     "Yes, hon?" I called back.
     "Go check on Liam for me, will you? We'll be ready to eat in another
hour." Amanda (my wife) was busy with the cook-out that we were having on
the beach. The lake was a clear, placid blue, the cool wind blowing over it
and the mountains beyond made a majestic vista for the Fourth of July, I
had to admit.
     So why wasn't Liam with us? Do you know a teenaged boy who wants to go
up into the wilderness and spend a long weekend with his family? He was
sulking back in the cabin, naturally. Amanda and I had decided to let him
do it, figuring he'd give up and come join us sooner or later, but here it
was the Fourth, the last of the three-day weekend, and he still wasn't
doing anything but staying in his room, manning a iPod and a Playstation at
the same time, grabbing sandwiches and ignoring the mealtimes, and
generally trying to pretend that all of us didn't exist. All well and good,
but he had to come join the family for the midday Fourth-of-July meal, it
was the reason we were all here to begin with.
     I didn't blame Liam, it sucks when you're that age, dependent on your
parents though that's the last thing you want to be, and having to go along
when they lay down the law. I'd done it aplenty when I was his age.
     So I hiked up to the cabin, one of three our family had rented, the
smallest of the group. The biggest belonged to Dad and Mom and also housed
the rest of their generation (Dad and his two brothers and two sisters was
how this family reunion was hanging together), The second, nearly as large,
took care of the rest, and the third was puny, only two bedrooms, it was my
family's, me, my wife, son Liam and our three daughters. Liam had to sleep
on the living room couch, a privilege which underwhelmed him as much as it
would you at his age.
     But he had been alone there for some hours, I expected him to be at
least willing to talk. That music and gamebox had to be wearing a little
thin by the third day. How long can you listen to boom-boom-boom and go
beep-beep-beep with your fingers?
     Liam was sitting on the couch, which had its back to the doorway (it
faced the fireplace) and I noticed he wasn't wearing his headphones just
now. A positive sign. Got a little closer and realized he wasn't wearing a
t-shirt, either. Well, it was a hot day.
     Nor any socks. Instead his ankles were festooned with a pair of blue
swimtrunks on his right ankle, and his jockstrap on the left. That
meant...he wasn't wearing anything else! I slipped up another step
(sneaking now) and saw for sure.
     Liam was sitting on the couch, stark-naked, playing with his cock! He
hadn't heard me walk in, I guess, though I hadn't been sneaking up. I
started to say something and stopped transfixed by the sight. I hadn't seen
Liam naked since he was about six years old! Damn, he was practically a man
now! I had known that about his build and such, of course, and I knew his
age, but still...seeing your son sporting a man-sized dong really drives
the point home.
     He was the image of myself, it was like looking at a younger version
of my own prong in his young hands. Liam was using a two-hand approach to
jerking himself, his buttocks on the edge of the couch cushions, legs
splayed out, both hands moving up and down, with only his fingertips on
either side working his prick, eight thick inches of perfectly pink-gold
man-dick. The head was reddened by his manipulation, his fingers squeezing
all the blood up into it, and it was tipped by a clear blob of
precome. Small sighs were slipping from his lips, almost a panting sound if
they'd been closer together, instead, they were discrete explosions of
pleasure sliding from his ruby-soft lips. "Oh! Oh! Uh! Uh! Uh!" His hair
was solid black, the vigorous growth was shining of its own volition,
yelling that they were the product of a body at its very emergence of
glory, when the beauty of youth can strike the hardest at the heart of a
man like myself, who was nearing the other end of that same spectrum.
     I only had on my t-shirt and shorts, and my left hand lifted up my
shirt to stroke my stomach and my right snaked down into my shorts to
fondle myself, the snake of my dong rising at the goad of my vision of
recaptured youth, my younger self, my son, stroking his pud in the glorious
joy of the lust of the goat that rises without shame to demand its share in
the universe!
     "Uh! Uh-huh-huh, uh!" Liam was saying, his passion was rising in
him. He would shoot soon enough, I would see that burst of young potency
spraying into the air, the comets of virility surging into the cosmos, the
rain of tumescent droplets splashing upon his glowing young flesh.
     Unbidden, a slight sound escaped my own lips, a single gurgle of my
rising need, I was pumping my pud in my shorts, as I played with one turgid
nipple, lost as much as my son in the simplest, most basic need, the need
for the male to release his seed, no matter your age, the need is there, it
comes and it overpowers you and you become lost to shame or sensibility or
decorum, a simple pink naked ape, that's what you are, unleashing your
sperm into the world.
     That sound was single, and it was small, it could have been overlooked
by Liam in his own urgent plethora of sounds, but it wasn't. Liam's head
turned and he took in the sight, his father, his own father, standing
behind him, watching me with one hand in my shorts and one upon my nipple,
playing with the brown oval buried in the thick coat of black fur that
covered me from throat to ankles.
     "Dad! Dad, Jesus!" Liam cried out and his hands exploded over his
crotch to bury his turgid rod from my sight.
     "Son, Son!" I cringed before my progeny's sight, mortified in my
humanness. "I'm sorry."
     "What were you doing?" Liam said. "Watching me and...Jesus!"
     "I'm sorry." I said again. "I just...well, just got carried away." I
walked around to his side of the couch, where he was fumbling at the floor,
trying to get his jock and shorts both up at the same time and failing
miserably. I caught hold of his arm and he looked up at me, and I saw that
he was frightened.
     "Hey, Liam, it's all right." I said to him. "Everyone jerks off, it's
okay. I'm the one who was wrong, I shouldn't have stood here and watched
you. I intruded and I'm sorry."
     "It's okay, Dad." Liam said. "I shouldn't have done it here. I knew it
was taking a risk, but I figured I'd hear you before you walked up."
     "You might have if you hadn't been going at it so fast." I teased.
     Liam blushed, but a grin slipped over his face. "Well, yeah." He
admitted.
     "Something to keep in mind for the next time." I said. "As long as
we're talking about this, you do realize you were doing it the wrong way."
     "Wrong way?"
     "Oh, I don't mean you don't get off doing it the way you did. But a
two-hand approach doesn't leave your other hand free. It can help you get
off in a hurry if it's free to do other things for you. And there are
better ways to use your hand that is working your pud."
     "Your other hand free for things like twiddling your nipple?" Liam
said, looking at my breast.
     I reached up and fondled it through my t-shirt. "Yeah, like that." I
agreed.
     Liam tweaked his own nipple and I saw it turn from flat blotch on his
chest to a round, crinkled circle with a taut nub in the middle. "It kind
of hurts." Liam judged. "But it does feel good, too."
     "You can be gentle or rough, or back and forth, as you need to." I
said. "Nothing says you have to do it the same way each time. Keep it mixed
up, maybe roll it in your fingertips rather than pinching, like turning a
knob."
     Liam got braver. "Dad? What did you mean a better way to work it?"
     "There's a lot of ways to pump your pud." I said. "You have to try and
see what works best for you."
     "Could you...could you teach me?" Liam was looking very interested,
and he wasn't looking at my face. My cock still hadn't gone down, it
doesn't ever when I get an erection, and especially with me and Amanda not
having any privacy the last several days. It jutted out my shorts in his
direction, and his lips parted, I got the feeling if it hadn't been inside
my shorts, and Liam were a little more comfortable, he might have leaned
forward and took it for himself.
     This almost-movement made me more confident and I said, "It's sort of
hard to explain. I'd have to show you."
     "Yeah." Liam breathed huskily. This left me with no question about
going on, Liam was willing. And he took his hand away from his cock to
reveal it to me once again.
     I skinned out of my t-shirt, dropped my shorts and jock to my ankles
as he did (I had the same problem he did and have failed with me, I needed
to pull them up in a hurry if I had to). Liam was in the center of the
couch and made no effort to move, I sat down beside him and we were
practically side-by-side.
     "Cool, we're the same size." Liam breathed.
     "Yeah." I agreed. "Just another sign that you're my son."
     That earned me a grin. "The family resemblance, eh?"
     "Something like that." I agreed. "Now, the way to whomp a pud is to
get your whole hand involved in it, like this." I wrapped my fingers and
thumb around my cock. "This gives you a different feel than your fingertips
like you were using, more generalized, like you get when you fuck a pussy
or an asshole."
     "Or like a mouth?"
     I grinned. "The mouth feels wetter and softer, unless the girl can
really keep a firm grip, and they usually can't after a moment or two." I
said as I pumped my prick. Liam was doing the same, but his eyes were
firmly upon his dad's pud, just as mine were locked on his. He was using
his right hand instead of his left like me (I was a leftie in most ways,
though I wrote with my right hand), but other than that, we were just
alike, my son and I, and I watched as he learned how to pump his prick.
     "It does feel different." Liam sighed as his hand moved on. "Kind of
smooth and softer than my fingers. But it's not doing as much for me, if
you know what I mean."
     "It'll make it last a bit longer." I agreed. "Your fingertips keep the
pressure so tight, you probably got used to it that way. You can still get
off with just one hand, son, keep it up. Use your other hand to stroke your
body. Pinch that nipple, you aren't going to pinch it off, son, so really
work it but good. It's like a short-cut to your joy-button."
     "You always did twist your tit too much." came a voice behind us.
     Now there were two of us jerking in surprise, and looking around.
     "You two having fun?" my Dad said. He wore a yellow shirt and green
shorts, about what I'd had on in different colors. He was grinning at the
sight of his son and grandson jerking off together.
     "Oh, hey, Dad." I said. "Liam and I were just...were just...."
     "Just teaching your son a thing or two about how to whack a willy,
from the looks of it." Dad said. "Giving him instruction from your own vast
experience?" Dad said. "Like the way you would every night in bed."
     "Dad!" I said, scandalized.
     "Every night, Dad?" Liam said.
     "Sometimes twice." my father affirmed.
     "Dad!" I said again.
     "Hey, don't blame me because you made the bed shake like crazy." Dad
said. "Banging my wall and keeping me and your mother awake."
     "I did?" I said. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"
     "Tell you?" Dad gave out a guffaw. "Hell, son, your pumping would get
your mother all worked up. I got plenty of extra nookie out of your
wall-banging."
     "Aw, man!" Liam groaned. "Don't make me visualize that! Grandpa and
Grandma bumping bellies! Jeez!"
     "Sorry, Lee." Dad said. "Don't let me interrupt you two. Get a look at
how they're raising kids these days. If I'd tried to teach David about how
to whack off, he'd've gone running to his mother and she'd've given me
hell."
     "I wouldn't have!" I protested. "Hell, Dad, you see me teaching Liam,
don't you? I would have loved it if you would have taught me."
     I guess all this acceptance had made Liam bold. "Hey, yeah, Grampa,
get down here and show us how it's done."
     "Liam!" I said, shocked.
     "Why not?" Liam argued. "You're doing it with me. Why not Grandpa,
too?"
     "I can show him a thing or two." Dad agreed.
     I had to laugh! God, how much further was this going to go? "We'd
better hurry, if we're going to show Liam anything." I settled for
saying. "They're going to come looking for us before much longer."
     "That's why they sent me." Dad affirmed. "You two have got twenty
minutes or they're going to throw it to the hogs."
     "Get down here, Grandpa, and show me what you've got." Liam said. God,
to be that brash and that young again! But Dad stripped down like Liam and
me, and then sat on Liam's other side. His cock was just the same size as
mine and Liam's. Yep, it ran in the family, this cock. Three in a row, all
just alike!
     "Okay, Grandpa, show me how you do it." Liam said.
     Dad put his hand around his pud and I heaved a sigh of relief. "That's
how I do it, too." I said.
     "It's a fairly basic procedure." Dad agreed. "Have you ever done
this?" and he held his foreskin all the way down to expose his glans, wet
his thumb and forefinger of his other hand, and then making a circle of
them, stroked them over his glans. "Try this one on, Son."
     I did, and gasped. It was intense, if like the nipple-pinch in being a
bit painful. Take the joy of stroking your prick, then add in the element
of just-bearable pain to it, that's what it's like.
     "Ouch, ooh, oh!" Liam was doing it himself, and wincing like me. "That
kind of hurts."
     "You have to learn to do it just right." Dad said. "But you don't have
to get off that way. Just a moment or two, then go back to doing it the
right way."
     I tried it and damned if Dad wasn't right. It added an intensity to
the stroking, my inflamed glans was screaming its pleasure, and I was
quivering like I hadn't done when pumping my cock in a long time.
     "Ooh, ah, yeah!" Liam sighed, and I knew he was in the same throes as
me. Dad was giving his pud a fast stroke, and I knew he was catching up
with me and Liam. I looked from one hand pumping cock to the other, my
father and my son, side by side with me, the three of us with busy hands,
three generations pounding our cocks, passed down from one generation to
the next, still the same, still intact, still steaming with virility that
no woman could fully satisfy.
     Liam had the biggest start, and he came first, with an "oh, oh, I'm
coming, Dad, Grandpa, I'm coming, oh, UH, UH, GHHHH!!!" and his prick burst
out with a fury that I envied, oh, for the powerful come-pump of my youth
again, it splattered his smooth chest from the concavity at the bottom of
his neck down to his pubic patch, most of it landing on his side away from
me.
     "Yeah, Lee, squirt that jizz." Dad urged him. "Give us a big load of
teenaged come. Show us old-timers what it looks like to be a teenager and
squirting like a sonuvabitch! Yeah!"
     Liam gasped as he finished, then moaned and his head fell over to rest
on my shoulder.
     "Good job, Son, good job." I said, not to be outdone. "That's a big
wad all right! Bet that one was screaming to get out."
     "No wonder he was up here waiting around." Dad agreed. "Waiting for a
chance to be alone long enough to wank it."
     "He was hanging out here an awful lot." I added.
     "Aw, Dad!" Liam said.
     I wasn't paying that much attention any longer, the sight of my son's
come clinging in clumps on his chest was turning me on a damned lot, and
the enraged glans of my cock was turning that joy into a powerful
electrical shock-like orgasm. So instead of continuing to tease Liam, I
leaned my head back and whomped on my pud.
     "Yeah, Dad, shoot that jizz, shoot it for me, Dad, shoot it hard!"
Liam said, his head still on my shoulder, watching eagerly as I pummeled my
joy-rod. "Give it a big one, Dad, see if you can hit me in the face with
it!"
     "Oh, God, oh, God, oh, oh, oh!"
     "Yeah, Son." Dad chimed in. "Give him a big wad. Then I'll squirt mine
all over both of you."
     "Yeah, Dad, oh, oh, oh!" I groaned at the thought of that, squirting
it on my son, then my Dad's jizz pouring over both of us! "Oh, oh,
GUH-UH-GGHHHUHHH!"
     And I did squirt hard! It wouldn't have hit Liam, but he leaned down
and put his face right in the way of it, and made happy sounds as my jizz
plastered him on the face! I saw this through half-opened eyes dazed by my
orgasm, watched my son love the spunk hitting his face.
     And my Dad got up and stood over us, and his own cock belched out his
hot squids of come. He got my leg and Liam's with it, not a hard gush as
I'm sure he meant it to be, but he followed through with getting his come
on both of us like he said he would. Done, Dad staggered over and sat back
down, wiped his face with his hand. "Whoo!" He said. "That was damned
good!"
     "I don't believe we did this!" Liam added.
     "I wasn't expecting this myself." I agreed. "But it made for a great
jerk-off session. Haven't done this since I was in college."
     "My old Army days for me." Dad agreed.
     "Boy Scouts." Liam completed.
     "I guess guys have been wanking it with other guys ever since it all
started." I mused.
     "We'd better get our pants pulled up and get to the picnic." Dad
said. "Don't want the women in our lives to get too curious now, do we?"
     "Definitely not." I shuddered.
     We were dressed when Liam burst into a fit of giggling.
     "What's so funny?" I wanted to know.
     "It's the Fourth of July."
     "Yeah?"
     "So I was wondering if we were going to shoot any fireworks." Liam
agreed.
     And the three of us laughing, we went down to the lakeside to rejoin
the rest of the family.

				  THE END
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