Date: Wed, 27 Aug 2008 09:10:51 -0500
From: hughsacks@hotmail.com
Subject: Training Sessions with My Dad 10

Ninety percent of this scenario is based upon my true life experiences and
is told for the personal pleasure of similarly inclined adults. Be
forewarned, it covers W/S, Teen sex--not incest--, scat, etc.

IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR ANYONE UNDER THE AGE OF 18.

It is also not to be copied or duplicated for distribution to others.
Author: Hugh Sacks                                    hughsacks@hotmail.com


Training Session 10       JR first part


In the summer of the year I'd graduated with honors and just before I
entered High School, an amazing thing happened to all of us. A young man
came into our home and would change the rest of our lives, sexually
emotionally, paternally, and economically.

If you want to skip to the next piss `n shit session and my first trip to
the LODGE, go to Training Session 14. That's the climax to this whole
story.  Otherwise this is the injected story, which is when it actually
happened.

                                      +            +

Bud had fulfilled his Army enlistment requirements and could have gone on
to college but he had a successful Army experience, achieving the rank of
Staff Sergeant. He like being in charge, directing other men, and was
encouraged by his superiors to go for Lieutenant, Captain, who knows where
else.

Sis also had found her niche in the Peace Corp and stayed in Africa to
build more schools and to teach.  As proud as mom and dad where, they still
missed them terribly. I did everything I could to fill this hole in their
lives but something else was gonna help a lot---a whole lot!

While I was about to begin my driver's training I still had to rely on my
trusty BMX to get around.  The bike route to school was much shorter than
the bus route but it was up and down major hills and was not an easy ride,
thus the school bus.

The summer was rapidly winding down and to fill out the rest of my time I
wanted to bike up to `look-out mountain' and take in all the beauty and
wonder of the season. I packed a simple lunch and, of course, a `sports
drink bottle' and headed out mid morning. By the time I got there I'd be
exhausted and ready for a rest and lunch. It was extremely warm so while I
had a shirt with me, I rode with only my shorts and sneakers on.  I'd even
pissed in my pants 'cause I loved the freedom and warmth of it and the ride
down one of the hills was long enough to really evaporate the moisture
while sending the aroma up to my nose.

When I finally did make it to the top I was dripping sweat.  It's called a
mountain but in this area of the country that meant some thing like 200 to
300 feet high.  It was called `lookout' `cause that's were ya took a girl
on a date, late at night: To look out and see the lights of the city and do
what ever else you could get her to do or allow you to do.  There were
definite rules about how close you could park to another car---there had to
be a tree between cars--and the county patrol did make occasional checks on
the spot. It was quite safe.  As I approached the road leading to the park,
I heard sirens of a police chase or of an ambulance.  That was unusual as
the hospital was on the other side of town.

It was mid day, mid week, and there wasn't any one around or would there
be.  Being this close to our house, I'd made these trip lots of times and
rarely found anyone there during the day, at least not for very long.

It was in that `what the fuck' frame of mind that I kicked off my sneakers
and stepped outta my shorts. If I was seen, it would be all the more
stimulating. But that hasn't happened in all the years I'd been doing this.
I stretched out on the grass to have my lunch and let the sweat evaporate.
As soon as I'd completed that task, I got the urge--they were coming more
and more often and I never saw any reason not to succumb to them. The urge
was to whack off; to shoot a load; to deliver my own dessert. And what the
fuck, if I got caught doin' it in public it would feel even better.

Without even looking at what I was doing, I just started playing with
myself and in a second I had a full blown boner.  I was now up to a good
7.5 inches. I don't remember what I fantasized about, it usually had
something to do with dad or Darrell but I do remember slowing down a couple
of times to make it last longer.  But it came to a point where I wanted my
cum more than I wanted the thrill of the charge. I could now get my head
right over my cock and shoot high enough for my mouth to suck it all in.
Such acts were becoming more and more normal and the climax should have
been so normal that I'd get board with it but that NEVER happened.  Every
anticipation was a high one and every taste was a thrill.  Each day it
would have a slightly different taste or texture and this shot was no
different.  It was an average load and I swished it around in my mouth,
enjoying it and then licked my lips for the few drops that missed my mouth.
I was working very hard and having some success with getting my cock into
my mouth as Darrell does.  In a month or so I was sure I'd be in such a
physical condition that that would be possible.

Having accomplished that, I just stretched out and closed my eyes,
imagining someone had just watched me doing my thing. I must have dropped
off `cause I awoke with the need to piss and while I normally would have
just pissed on my self, I stood up and walked to the edge of the bluff to
see how far I could piss out into the air and see where it would land.  I
had a full bladder, so this was gonna be a good exercise. I'd learned to
pinch my cock hard so the urge to piss became painfully strong and the arc
of piss would be much larger and more forceful. I even impressed myself
with the range but what I admired the most was the golden rain bow it made
on its way down... spectacular.

But then my sight was redirected to some thing else that was sparkling down
there. It was the chrome spokes of a bike wheel turning in the breeze.
Who'd be crazy enough to toss their bike off this bluff? I looked and
looked and slipping my shorts `n shoes back on, I walked along the bluff
and was able to see that there was something else down there.  It looked
like a figure but I didn't want that to be so but I had to find out.

I made my way around and down through the heavy underbrush. I should have
put on my shirt as the thick bushes were scratching my body. From this
angle I could see that it was, in fact, a figure but I couldn't see its
face to tell whether it was a boy or girl.  The blonde hair was curly and
longer enough to be one.  By going down even further I passed the mangled
bike, with its wheel still slowly spinning; I was able to make my way past
it and back up to the ledge where the body was.

My Scout first aid training was gonna come into practical use now.  I knew
not to move the body but to check the temple and wrist for a pulse.  There
was one but there was also blood coming from the under side of his head. It
had run across the ledge and dripped off the edge. That was not a good
sign.  My hands felt along the limbs and couldn't detect any broken bones
and that was good.  I was able to move the hair back... ...it was a boy; a
very good looking boy about my age.

I gently patted his face and talked to him but there was no response.  His
T shirt was snagged and torn; he was wearing shorts but much longer than
mine and sneakers, one of which was missing. They were nice cloths and he
had a sports watch and gold ring. The watch was broken; the hands were at
10:30 about an hour ago. I felt his pocket for a wallet and identification;
there was none.

I had to go for help.  I knew there was a rundown gas station near by but
would it be open. If not, it would almost be a quick to go all the way
home.  It was a much easier, faster, climb up the other side of the bluff,
with much less thicket to climb through.  I was up and on my bike in a few
minutes and with the down hill run to the gas station, I got there within
minutes but it was closed.  There was a rundown phone booth there but the
chances of that working were also slim but I tried it and the Lord was
there to bless this life saving endeavor. The last person to use it had
left the coins in the return cup and I was able to make one call.
Decision: Mom or dad? I hadn't considered calling the operator.  Dad was
much closer but mom would be able to get help here quicker.

I called the hospital. Mom wasn't there yet but would be soon.  I explained
a little of the situation saying that I was all right but a friend needed
an ambulance.  Please have her call me just as soon as she gets in and I
gave her the number of the phone I was calling from, hoping that it would
receive calls.

Waiting in such situations, minutes seemed like hours but as I was pacing
out side the booth, hoping to hear someone coming along the road, the phone
did ring and I raced to grab it on the second ring.  I calmly told her
where I was and what I'd discovered. She was also very calm and told me I'd
done everything exactly as I should have. The only problem was that there
were no ambulances available.  There was a bad accident in that area and
the injured had to be taken to the larger hospital in the next town. The
police couldn't help either as they were all involved in this accident.

"I'll call your father.  He's on a job site near there and he'll know what
to do. I'll give him this number and you can tell him exactly where to meet
you," she said, ending with,

"I'm proud of you son."

Again, that waiting period; it was awful. It took a few minutes but dad did
call back and I went over the whole story, just as I had with mom, only
with dad I said he was good looking and well dressed.  What the hell
difference did that make?

Dad said to go back and stay with him. Dad knew the area well and a side
road that would bring him beneath the ledge.  I'd forgotten that dad had
the equivalent of CPR training just in case there was ever an accident with
any of his crew.  He'd never had to use it but he knew how to and in fact
had bandages and such in the medical kit in his crew cab dually truck, just
for that reason.

I was very relieved and made my way back to the victim, only this time I
pushed my bike up the steep hill.  It took longer but it also saved my
strength.  I left my bike up there and climbed down the easier path to the
boy.  He was still unconscious.

Dad has said that he'd leave immediately but that it would take at least a
half hour. I wanted to but didn't move his head, as per mom and dad's
instructions just in case his neck was broken.  I felt his chest and could
feel a heart beat and that relieved me.  As I looked at his watch again,
his arm slipped to the natural position next to his body.  In looking at
his other hand with the ring, I could see initials on it.  I latter learned
that it's called a signet ring; a flat surface with initials carved into it
so that if pressed into a wax seal, it would leave the initial impression
of the ring bearer.  These were JRB.

Still just sitting there looking at his beautiful, long, lean body I just
began wondering what the rest of it looked like.  I knew it was wrong and
that I should go and look at his bike but the good side of me lost and the
perverted side won.  He was lying slightly on his left hip, projecting his
fly and slight bulge toward my face-----saying,

"Look at me...look at me... See what I have to offer."

I lost control and did just that.  There was no belt to deal with and with
just a flick of a finger, his top button was undone and I was able to
slowly pull down the zipper.  It was all so easy that I knew it must be all
right.  Each side flipped back, exposing brilliant white, fairly loose,
jockey shorts. The waist band said Calvin Klein.  I'd seen that brand on
the jocks at school.

First my hand just covered the bulge. It more than filled my hand.  Gently,
I moved it around to see if I could detect where his cock was and if it was
cut or uncut.  This is getting bizarre, but I just couldn't stop. We were
so casual around our house, all being naked most of the time, that whenever
I wanted to touch and feel, I just did it---much to the pleasure of my dad.

[I'd be at the kitchen sink doing dishes and dad would slip behind me---I
could feel his cock against my ass---and he'd slip his hand around be and
give my cock a firm squeeze.  We were bringing things from the car to the
kitchen together and I'd have my free hand on his hairy ass; he'd stop and
my fingers would slip into his ass hole. ]

I think I only owned two pair of jockey shorts and I preferred them tight
and form fitting if and when I had to wear them.  But I also knew that it
was easier to drop them completely rather than digging out your cock
through the tight slot.  These were so loose, it would be easier to access
his cock through the crotch edge and as I pulled the fabric away, his balls
just seemed to slide out, expressing thanks for being set free. They were
large, long and soft, with almost no hair or aroma.

In just one more tug or move his limp cock also appeared.  He was
circumcised but it was one gorgeous looking piece of meat.  I put my hand
around it and it felt very warm and solid.  My whole hand was around it and
its head was completely showing. Not wanting to make any unnecessary moves
that might bring him around, I just held it in my hand imagining all sorts
of wonderful things.

It was an automatic reaction; a cock in the hand means direct it to a mouth
to feed ya with either piss or cum.  Before I knew it my tongue was licking
the head and my lips just closed around the shaft and I just sat there in
satisfied wonder at the delicious taste and smell of it all. It was a very
different fresh, clean smell; almost as though he was wearing cologne.  My
tongue worked its way into the slit of its head and then, with lots of
saliva, built up in the excitement of the event, I sucked on the shaft,
removing my hand and just sucking more and more of it into my mouth.

Being unconscious, he was unable to respond with a hard on and I was glad
of that `cause I knew if he awoke he'd yank it outta my mouth and probably
knock my head off for being so perverted.

I remember seeing one stud, taunt a twit in the locker room to suck his
cock and when he did and other guys came him, he yanked it out, calling him
as perverted fag and socked him in the face, knocking him to the floor.  He
had a black eye the rest of the day and was taunted by other jocks as they
grabbed their crotches saying,

"Wanna `nother one queer?--- a black eye I mean."

I was brought back to reality when I heard dad's truck on the gravel road.
I slipped his shorts back over his cock, zipped up his fly and pulled down
his shirt. There was no movement from the body.  I stood up and waved my
shirt and dad waved back.

He came up with a back board and the medical kit.  We talked about what to
do. I was impressed with the technical terms he used, assuring me that he
knew exactly what to do.  He had a white fabric covered collar thing that
he slipped under and around his neck, supporting his chin.  Then he, too,
ran his hands down each of his limbs, confirming,

"Nothing appears to be broken. Let's slide the board under him and strap
him on."

It was an easy, move.  He wasn't that heavy and there was enough room to
maneuver.  Four wide straps were cinched around his body securing it to the
board.  Dad told me exactly what to do as he lifted the foot end and
stepped backwards down the hill while I held the head end, following
him. We went slowly with dad testing each step to be sure it was
secure. Most of the time dad had the board at shoulder height.  Dad had
left the tail gate down and we slid him into the bed of dad's truck.

"You ride back here with him. I'm going back to get his bike. There might
be some identification with it," he said as he closed the gate.

"Wanna get mine also or should we just leave it there?"  He didn't answer
but just jogged back up to where the bike was.

Once it was put in the back I said we should go around and get my bike.  We
did and `cause it was smaller, dad put that in the rear seat and we were
off.  Without racing, we sped toward the hospital and mom.  Dad has a phone
in the cab of his truck and told her what we'd done and that we were
bringing him in.

I sat next him, with my fingers running though his blond hair.  Yes he was
very good looking.  There was no cut anywhere so I thought the blood must
have come from his mouth.  Actually it came from his ear. He had a
concussion. Either the wind or the vibration of the trip brought him around
and his eyes were opening and he was trying to say something.  But with the
sound of the wind, I couldn't understand him. I turned so he could see my
face, right side up and smiled, shaking my head down and up in a positive
motion, saying loudly,

"WE"RE ON THE WAY TO THE HOSPITAL."

His eyes closed for a moment and then reopened and there was a slight smile
on his face.

Mom was at the emergency door with a gurney.  In a few moments we were all
inside and the young man was talking and moving his hands.  While we moved,
mom removed most of the straps and was holding his arm and hand, assuring
him that he was alright.

In the examining room he was given a thorough examination and yes, nothing
was broken or out of order.  An X-ray was taken of his head and yes, he did
have a wicked bruise, knock on the head, but he was talking normally and
able to move every limb.

Because he had no identification, only his signet ring, mom signed him in
under her name just to keep the paper work simple.

There didn't seem to be any reason for him to stay in the hospital and
until we could sort out who he actually was, mom and dad agreed to take him
home. There was a benefit in being the head nurse in a small community
hospital.  All paperwork was kept the minimum. Mom filled out the rest of
her shift and we took him home to dinner.

We asked him all sorts of questions on the ride but got no specific
answers. We told him who we were, what we all did and he responded to it
all with understanding and appreciation.  He said several times how
grateful he was that we were there when he needed help.

Once in the house, we showed him around, where the john was, etc. and then
dad noticed that he still was missing one shoe. Mine were too small and
dad's were too big.  He asked me to go up in Bud's room and find a pair of
shoes that might fit.  He followed me up and we found a pair that fit
perfectly.  I told him about Bud and Sis and that this would probably be
his room while we tried to find out who he was.

While he tried on the shoes, a brilliant idea flashed in my mind,

"While we're trying on shoes, we might try some of his other cloths as
those are the only things you have to wear."

And I pulled open several drawers and tossed things to him to try on,
especially shorts as I wanted to see him strip.  And strip he did.

He wasn't at all shy or concerned about being naked in front of me. In fact
when he took off his pants, he also dropped his under pants and he wouldn't
have had to do that just to try on another pair of pants and if that wasn't
enough when he stood up, he just very casually reached for his cock and
gave it a flip.

As he reached for a pair of jeans I said he was the same size as my
brother, meaning his pants size but he must have taken it to mean cock size
and that REALLY surprised, pleased me.

"Yea, I've been told that I have a good size dick.  How big is yours?"

That frankness really shocked me and my jaw dropped open and I stammered...

"Mine's not nearly as big as yours but it's a good size."

"Sorry, about that.  I shouldn't have said that.  It's none of my business.
I'm very sorry."

"No NO, not at all.  It's perfectly all right. In this house ya can talk
about such things and even show such things.  We're all very casual around
here, especially my dad and me.  We work out together, nude."

"WOW, that's way cool, man.  I like to work out too,"
 he said flexing the muscles in his arms.

"Well if you're that comfortable about it all, this is what I have to offer
and I dropped my shorts and grabbed my cock and balls, playing with them
roughly.

"You don't have under pants on.  Do you like it that way?  I was always
forced to wear them but didn't see the reason why."

"Neither my brother, dad, or I have ever worn them.  Saves on the laundry,"
I said with a smirk on my face.

We'd decided that everything of Bud's was his size and left it at that. He
was welcome to it all.

Then another brilliant idea flashed in my mind:

"How about we try and shock dad by going back down naked, no nude, as you
have shoes on.  Are you game for it? Don't want to embarrass you or do
anything you don't want to do."

"Hell, yea, that would be fine--- fun--- since you say you're usually that
way all the time.  I'd like to fit in, if I'm gonna be your guest."

 "OH this is gonna be so fuckin' cool.  Can't wait to see the expression on
dad's face. Just let me go in first so I can see him as you come in," and
with that we headed down to the kitchen.  I entered the kitchen saying,

"Found a pair of shoes that fit but couldn't fine another thing
else...Guess he'll just have to go around n a k...,"

I didn't get it all out `cause as he turned to listen to me he saw `JR'
come through the door.

"It was his jaw that dropped this time, only he also uttered a `wooow' and
added a whistle of amazement.

"I must have something of offer as you too look amazed.  I saw the same
look on your son's face a few minutes ago.  As with him, I see you're more
impressed than you are embarrassed."

"Brother, you can say that again. I was just thinking of how I, we, were
going to have to change our life style now that we had a normal person
staying with us. It was gonna be hard but we would be willing to do
it---wear cloths that is---if that would make you more comfortable."

"OH no, I feel so much more comfortable like this.  In fact I feel freer
and more alive than I've felt in a long, long time.  It feels like my body
has been waiting to be this fee; I just love it. But what about your wife."

"Oh she'll be shocked and surprised that we've converted you in one
afternoon but since she's seen us running about like this for years, it
won't be anything new. Her comment will be something like...

`You crazy ass men; you're all just a bunch boys who haven't grown up."

And with that we broke out in laughter, each one playing with himself.

Dinner was good, especially sitting around the glass table gawking at each
other.  The same questions were discussed as to why, how, he'd gotten into
such a state. Nothing new was discovered. He didn't mind our probing; we
all wanted to find out how and why this has happened.

We had come to one conclusion.  We had to call him something and since the
initials on his ring were JRB, we agreed to call him JR since that was a
popular star on a TV show called Dallas.

We all helped clean up the kitchen with his being able to load a dishwasher
and then we went into the family room but I headed for the workout area,
saying,

 "I mentioned that we work out in the buff and thought I'd show him where
it was."

They followed me and I lay down on the bench and he took the spotter point
behind and above me.  I lifted a few weights for a few minutes and then
offered to switch.

He so easily lifted them that dad stopped and added a few more with his
comment,

"That feels better.  I like this very much."

We each took several turns at different moves and he easily followed alone
with each of them.  He was almost as good, able to lift and move as well as
dad.  It was now gonna be my challenge to keep up with him.  I had no
desire to try and catch up with dad, but with him, it might be possible.

We spent the rest of the night, watching TV and he knew all the shows.  He
said he had to use the john.  I suggested that I show him his own across
from his bedroom and we both left, saying that we'd probably turn in also.

"Nite sons...love ya."

I know I caught the plural of son; I wonder if JR did?

Dad followed us out but went to the kitchen for a beer and the phone rang.
It was mom.

It was an unfortunate exit.  If we'd stayed for the TV news we would have
seen something that would shock him or bring back his memory.  There was
extensive coverage of the major accident on the expressway; the one that
required both of our ambulances to be in use when we had needed one of
them.

Apparently there had been a car chase, involving at least three cars. One
had rammed the other in the side, forcing it off the road and into a
ditch. But the thing that shocked all the viewers was hearing that gun fire
was involved and it wasn't police fire. The cars had been shooting at each
other.  That's never happened in our small, isolated community.

They were looking for the third car and the men driving it.  The two people
taken to the hospital were in critical condition and might not make it.
Both cars were licensed out of state; one was from Florida.

The news was over by the time dad got off the phone with mom.

                                      +          +

Meanwhile, in the bath room, while I was getting a new tooth brush and comb
for him, he was standing at the toilet pissing and he looked over at me to
see if I was watching him.  As short a time as we'd known each other, we'd
already discovered soooo much about our likes, that I wasn't at all
embarrass-ed at him seeing me watch him.

"Seeing you piss, makes me wanna piss also but I can hold it until you're
through."

"Don't have ta wait. Ya can join me," as he stepped to the side of the
toilet, offering me the other side.

"Yea, that's fine but if we both get into the tub, there's more room."

"That's an excellent idea," as he pinched off his flow and followed me into
the tub. Both tubs in the house were open, having only two walls around
them. There were no shower curtains.  It made for a larger looking tub and
an easier one to use, relax in.

We stood facing each other so we could watch our pissing.  I wanted to do
it but he beat me to it.  He pissed on my foot, and I pissed on his.  It
was gonna be one of those competition things. I got mine up to his crotch
hoping he'd try the same thing and of course he did but this time I dropped
to my knees and his spray hit my mouth.

"Sorry about that...shouldn't have done that.  Forgive me...I'm terribly
sorry," he kept stammering.

I tied to assure him that it was alright but as he stepped outta the tub he
was still apologizing, profusely. I stepped out and sat on the edge of it
and reaching for his cock, pulled him toward me and managed to get his dick
into my mouth.

"Go ahead, finish your piss," I mumbled with a mouth full of cock, I really
like piss. I drink it all the time!"

He couldn't believe it and just stood there in silent amazement.  But since
I was still holding him in my mouth, he did finish his last few drops
directly into my mouth.

When I released him, I thanked him but he turned to turn on the tub faucet
and rinse down what we'd piss there.

I was sure I'd gone to far to fast and that dad would be furious with me.
After all JR was still a complete stranger and I had no idea about his
sexuality or his bodily cleanliness.  I followed him to Bud's room, his
room, to show him were pajamas and robes were if he wanted to use them.  He
declined both, saying he was more comfortable like this. But he'd wear them
if mom would prefer it.

"Naw, she'd be OK with it," adding the silly line that `it's that much less
to wash.'

As I left the room, I turned to say how sorry I was if I'd gone too far,

"As I said, in this house were all very sexually free BUT please remember
this: If anything happens that you're not completely comfortable with, all
you have to say is `thank you, no' or if it ever gets further than that,
just say `UNCLE' and everyone will understand and back completely off."

"Is that OK?"

"It's more than OK.  I thought I'd gone too far, to fast, especially after
all you've done for me today but I have this urge for personal
gratification and have to work real hard at keeping it under control."

"Weeelllll be assured that we all have those urges and we don't work very
hard at all trying to keep them under control.  In fact we can't seem to
ever satisfy one another.  You're gonna be a fine asset to this house I can
assure you," and with a budding hard on, I left his room and darted to
mine, where I jumped into bed, flipped my legs over my head and immediately
shot several loads of creamy cum into my mouth.  I was so turned on, I
don't think I stoked my cock more that twice.

				+    +    +