My cock stood rigid as I paused to look down on the man lying beneath me before settling between his open legs. For one instance I had recalled the sight of another man in another place in the same position, and I could still hear what I said, “Dad, I‟m going to give you a fucking that you‟ll never forget.”

Looking back over my life so far, I can point to the summer after graduating from high school when I went to live with my father as the origin of my sexual attitudes. What is more likely, however, is that the seeds had already been sown and my environment only supplied the water and fertilizer.

After graduating from high school in an Atlanta suburb, I went to live with my father in Texas. He had agreed to pay all expenses for me to attend a nearby community college during the school year in exchange for my working in his machine shop during the summer. .

My parents were divorced when I was ten. That was when I had gone back East to live with my extremely religious mother. The stark contrast in how my parents viewed life made their differences and their marriage irreconcilable. My father had been raised by hippy parents; her father was a minister. “That heathen” was how my mother often referred to my father.

Their agreement at the divorce was that I would spend four weeks every summer with my father. From my perspective, I never saw anything that I thought was “heathen” from my father; I only thought that summers with Dad were fun. Of course I had not yet moved in with him permanently and had no inkling of the surprises in store for me.

To this day I can clearly remember my shock when, on my first night at his house, he came out of the bathroom wearing only a pair of boxer shorts and then proceeded to remain undressed like that for the rest of the evening.

Not that there was anything especially wrong with him wearing boxers, in fact I wore them myself. It‟s just that I had never seen an adult lounging around who wasn‟t either fully clothed or wrapped in a robe. He must have caught the surprised look on my face as his off-hand acknowledgement of this state of dress related to my now living there full-time. He said that this was the casual “lifestyle” that he practiced at home when I was away at my mother‟s, and this was how he intended to continue now that I was there full time.

I wasn‟t certain of what that meant by “lifestyle,” but there was no further discussion. However, I couldn't ignore the rapid acceleration of my heart when, as he sat down beside me on the couch, the fly of his boxer shorts gaped open revealing a protruding tangle of dark pubic hair. He also made no effort to disguise the large bulge running along the leg. Though I was attempting to keep my eyes on the television, I found it impossible to not glance downward toward the fly on his shorts. Oblivious to me, he opened a magazine and began reading.

Feeling awkward and uncertain of the reaction I was having, I quickly retreated to my room saying that I wanted to go to bed early. He only mumbled a vague response followed by, “Good night.”

Once alone in my bed, still fraught with fear that my father would have sensed my interest in his crotch, I grasped the shaft of my cock to begin rapidly masturbating. Images of naked men from magazines that I had seen, other students from school, and a new fantasy of my father sitting in front of the television with his shorts gaping open, flooded into my mind.

In my imagination I saw his cock expanding in his boxers until he pulled it through the fly to begin stroking himself. I fantasized that I was unnoticed in the kitchen watching him engage in behavior only known to him. He pulled down his boxers, pushing them down toward his knees as he began making circles with his palm around his engorged purple cock head.

Laying back in my bed to spread open my legs, I rubbed my own swollen shaft, just as I imagined him doing to his. Reaching down with my free hand I grasped my balls and squeezed them. In my mind I saw him grasping his ball sack just as his hand stroked the dripping head of his cock.

Caught in my thoughts and unable to resist moaning from pleasure, I heard myself say aloud, “Oh Dad, stroke that big cock of yours, stroke it Dad.” As I lay filled with the explicit longing to see his cock hard, I was caught by surprise when strong ribbons of cum began shooting from my penis. My fantasy world ended abruptly with the release and I lay on my bed sweaty and naked with my stomach covered with my semen. I fell asleep that way. .

Dad owned a small machine shop in front of the country house where he lived that was about a mile outside of a medium-sized East Texas town. His property bordered on state park lands that were heavily forested and included streams, ponds, a medium-sized lake, and even rumors of a few ghosts.

During summer evenings on earlier visits, when my father would return from work, we‟d set out together exploring nature. He was a good instructor and spent great care teaching me about the forest and its inhabitants. These times were a refreshing escape to me as I grew into young manhood. They offered a sharp contrast to the strict environment that existed with my Mother.

My education over those years of summers included more than the flora and the fauna. Knowing that my Mother and her new husband were reluctant to even hint about sex, my Dad supplied me with appropriate knowledge of sex and my own body. He was always unashamed and matter-of-fact with his information, so as the years went by I was a repository of facts about the subject which I freely conveyed to my school chums. Consequently, even though I was shy, I soon had a reputation at school of being “experienced” at sex, even though I wasn‟t. Dad had also emphasized that “self-discovery” for a young man was not only normal but expected. From puberty onward I had practiced that a lot.

By the end of that first week of living full-time with him, I had become accustomed to seeing him wearing only his boxers. I had even caught an occasional glimpse of his naked body as he moved about the house. What I wasn‟t accustomed to was the growing thrill I had each time I saw his manly form on display. Even though I was becoming alarmed by my reactions, and sought to ignore them by hiding away in my room, my father‟s body increasingly became the focus of my masturbation fantasies.

During day hours, I quickly fell into the routine of work around the shop, beginning mostly with odds and ends related to clean-up and organization. The three other employees, one skinny young blonde man a few years older than me, Hank, and two older Hispanic men, Juan and Rodrigo, soon began treating me as just another co-worker. I was included in the sexual jokes, innuendos, and hi-jinks of shop talk. Even my dad was noticeably more relaxed than I had remembered him on my previous visits.

When I was still in school, though Dad had been great fun to be with, he had kept a distance between us. From the first day of my arrival that summer, I began noticing other changes in his behavior when he was around me. Not only did he curse more and occasionally join in the familiarity of idle shop talk; once we were alone he started treating me less like a boy and more as an equal. He began calling me Dave or David instead of Davie as he had used since I could remember.

Dad was taller and darker than me as well as stockier and more muscular. I had reached my full height of just less than six feet, whereas he stood nearly 6 foot 1 inches. I also favored my mother with a reddish complexion, sandy hair and little body hair. My face was composed of the more fair Scandinavian features of my mother‟s side than the Italian swarthiness of my father‟s. In school I had often been teased during showers after gym for my bright bush of dark orange red pubic hair. My senior year I had taken to trimming it down to lessen the effect of what a friend of mine had once called, “an orange bird‟s nest.”

Finally growing accustomed to my father‟s new casualness toward me, my attitudes still elevated to shock one Saturday morning. After rising later than normal, I had dressed and gone to the kitchen to start coffee when I heard noises from his room. Returning down the hallway toward the open door of my bedroom, the door to his room across from mine opened and he emerged buck naked and sporting a semi-erection. Despite my stunned reflexes, my rapid eyes had taken in details about his genitals,

especially his hard cock. I could clearly tell that he was uncircumcised whereas I was cut.

While I stood dumbfounded in the hallway, he casually looked first at me, then down at his himself, and muttered, “Morning wood.” Amused at what he obviously considered a joke, he continued down the hall to the bathroom.

Standing immobile and red-faced, I watched him through the open door step to the toilet and release a heavy stream of urine. “Damn that feels good,” he said turning toward me, appearing as though he was waiting for me to add some comment. I was speechless.

Distracted by the sound of gurgling from the coffee pot, I scurried back to the kitchen. Stunned by the site of my father‟s engorged cock, I welcomed the distraction of coffee.

Bracing myself on the kitchen cabinet, I inhaled deeply, willing my heartbeat to slow, and tried to remember which cabinet held the coffee cups. Without fanfare, Dad walked into the kitchen still naked. Even though his cock was now nearly flaccid, from the corner of my eye I caught sight of the biggest one that I‟d ever seen.

He said, while casually reaching past me and opening a door to take out a cup, “Didn‟t mean to shock you.” He began pouring himself coffee and continued talking, “I should have mentioned that before; but I wasn‟t sure how to bring it up.” Then, obviously bemused and grinning he said, “You should have seen the look on your face.” Chuckling and looking me in the eye, he winked and added, “I don‟t think I‟ll ever forget it.”

I stood staring down at the counter top as if I was transfixed by a speck on the laminate.

He then began struggling awkwardly through a rambling explanation of how he practiced nudity during the months while I was living at my Mom‟s. It was obvious that he was uncomfortable and not used to explaining himself. His rambling ending with, “So I like living this way. Besides, it‟s my house and nobody‟s damn business,” his voice rose toward the end. Then he added, “Hell, society places so many restrictions on us out there,” his hand pointing with contempt toward a window, “I figure a man should get to live in his own home without their damn rules and regulations.”

I supposed that he expected me to agree with him, but with my mind still blank, I could only reach to take a cup from the cabinet. The knot in my throat prevented me from uttering a sound.

Though I wished that he would just shut up, he didn‟t. “I guess that‟s one of the reasons why your mother and I never got along. She‟s so damned up tight,” he added. With a trembling hand, I began pouring coffee for myself and continuing to avert my eyes from him. “Where am I supposed to be looking when he‟s naked like this?” I thought. However, I was now certain where I wanted to be looking.

“Maybe I should have warned you about how I am, but I didn‟t know how to bring it up.” Then he spread his arms and concluded, “So, are you okay with your old man going around the house bare-assed?” Whether intended or not, he switched to a tone sounding vaguely like a threat, “You could always go live back with your mother if it‟s not.”

Horrified by the thought of my mother, I uttered a sound that must have sounded like a squeal, “No.” Realizing how that sounded, I lowered my voice and blurted, “I mean sure, its okay, everything‟s okay,” and walked to the kitchen table to sit, primarily because I was having a swelling in my pants. “Shit,” I thought, “He‟ll think that I‟m some type of pervert.”

“Well,” Dad said as he sat down opposite me, “you‟ll get used to me. I guess I don‟t think like most people.” Switching subjects abruptly he began idly talking about the day ahead including fishing on the lake that afternoon. I would soon learn that it was typical of him to do this. And typical for me, even though I was nearly nineteen, I still hadn't learned that conversations could be two-way and that it was alright to ask for elaboration.

Meanwhile, while appearing to listen, my thoughts were zooming around my head like cars at a go-cart track. “What am I supposed to say here? Why am I circumcised and he's not? What if somebody comes around and he‟s naked?” And, “Did he notice my hard-on?” Then the worst thought of all, “I‟m enjoying this.”

Looking back at that morning I realize that was when a door cracked open in me; one that I had been only vaguely aware of. Sure there had been noises behind it, and I had always been suspicious of what was there, but not until that morning did it begin to clarify itself and I finally understood why the girls in school hadn‟t interested me.

After breakfast he said it was time to head out and he disappeared into his room to emerge a few minutes later wearing cut-offs and a „t‟ as well as boat shoes. Dressed as he was, though he was in his early 40s, he could have passed for a much younger man.

He was a father that I could be proud of. “You about ready?” he threw my way, and off we went to complete our chores.

After a trip to the grocery store and later a stop at a parts shop where he purchased a few items for the business, we were back at the house. After unloading the purchases, he announced, “Time to go fishing.” Before heading out the door he paused, looked at me and said, “You‟re not going out like that, are you? Hell, you look like you‟re dressed for school.”

I was wearing what I had been taught by my mother was appropriate weekend casual wear, jeans, polo and very clean sneakers. Though I had shorts, she did'‟t like me to wear them and so, I discovered on arriving here, she hadn‟t packed any. My swim suit was also back at her house. “Your legs are so white,” she used to complain, as though somehow was my fault.

Well,” I stumbled, “I guess it's all I brought,” feeling sheepish and gullible for letting her pack for me.

He shook his head and said, as though he was perplexed by me, “You‟ve lived with your mother too long.  Didn't you bring any shorts? What happened to the ones you had last summer?” he added.

“Mom said they were too old and ratty and threw them away.”

He rolled his eyes with the mention of my mother, rubbed his chin, and then said, “Let's see what we can come up with. Come with me,” and we paraded down to his room.

Digging through a couple of drawers he examined a few pair of shorts and cut offs then commenting that everything was too large for me. “You got your slim build from your mom‟s side.” He got an idea and went to his closet and after rummaging around a bit, he came out holding an old pair of white nylon running shorts. “These are old but the waist stretches. They're too small for me and the string is still in them. You can tighten it to fit you.” Tossing them toward me he added, “Put them on,” followed by, “and find an old t-shirt to wear.”

I went to my bedroom and quickly changed. Looking at myself in the mirror, I felt exposed in the flimsy white shorts. They were a size too large and even though they included a net liner, it was loose and I wished that I had a pair of briefs to wear underneath. Everything between my legs felt strange hanging loose. However, since I hadn't packed my only jock and only wore boxer underwear, there was nothing I could put on to contain my hanging genitals.

I came out of my room to hear him say, “My god your legs are white. You'd better slap on the sun screen or you‟ll boil like a lobster.” Once again I felt blamed for something I had no control of. I fantasized saying to the angel in charge of assigning bodies, “Sure, I‟d like those white legs, the skinny ones.”

We soon set off with boat in tow for Parker Lake several miles away at the northern end of the state park. My Dad had a permanent park pass. Waving to the guard as we passed, we were quickly at the lake with the boat in the water in what seemed like no time at all. After we had cast off, Dad mentioned a cove about half a mile from the landing where he preferred to fish at that time of day. Soon we pulled into the isolated cove, anchored and killed the engine.

After saying “Let's get ready to fish,” he stood in the boat and, without ceremony, unsnapped and dropped his cut offs, revealing that he was wearing an old pair of yellow Speedos underneath. The elastic around the legs was frayed and fit loosely. This wasn't how he had dressed when we went fishing on my previous visits.

Looking at his bulging crotch, I thought of how my genitals were dangling unconfined between my own legs. He quickly doffed his t-shirt, sat down with his back toward me and said, “Put some sunscreen on my back, will you. It‟s in that bag,” he said while motioning toward a small bag he had brought.

While attempting to pay attention to him chatting away about when and where fish bite, I poured an amount of lotion in my palm and began rubbing it over his shoulders. The act felt at the same time strange and more familiar than anything I had experienced before with my father. I was starting to feel a flush over my face. Privately I was also trying to ignore the small thrill that was beginning to build in my stomach as I touched him.

His back was broad and muscular. While he sat on the plank, the skimpy suit pulled downwards revealing the upper half of his butt crack. A light dusting of fur covered his rear. My eyes feasted with the sight while my mind rebelled at what I was doing.

Once I'd finished I handed him the lotion and he stood facing away from me to begin spreading oil over his chest, arms, and after bending forward, the front and back of his legs. I took in the view of his full, firm butt cheeks straining against the nylon of the yellow Speedo. A view of his ass crack was clear through the thin fabric. “Whew,” I thought thought to myself relishing the view.

When he‟d finished he tossed me the sunscreen with instructions to “rub it in good and heavy everywhere.” Then he sat down facing me and began to rummage through his tackle box preparing our rods and lines. While I rubbed my face, I sneaked peeks at him sitting facing me.

With his legs splayed open, the bulge between them strained against the thin yellow suit. The matting of hair on his groin created a dark smear under the thin fabric. The yellow suite had no inner lining. Clearly sticking out from the frayed leg openings were dark, curly pubic hairs and a protrusion of skin from his ball sack. His Speedo was not only old but  too small by at least one size.

Engrossed in the view between Dad‟s legs, I was grateful that the shorts he‟d given me were too big since I was having trouble keeping an erection down. I was relieved when he instructed me to turn around so that he could rub lotion over my back and neck.

Dad didn't seem to notice my predicament and, while he rubbed, was absorbed in an explanation of casting in this part of the lake. With a burning face, I was more concerned with keeping my legs together to hide what was happening between them. Finally we cast our lines and I was grateful to focus on something else; even though it was taking considerable effort.

At one point in the afternoon, Dad looked around and said, “Looks like nobody is around here.” True, only a few boats had come in our cove, but quickly left for other fishing spots. Standing carefully in the boat he pulled down the front of the Speedo, tucked it under his testicles, and took hold of his cock to begin pissing in the lake. He looked at me and chatted away as though nothing was happening; I supposed that in his mind it was no big deal. However, judging from the swelling between my legs, it was a very big deal to me.

When he asked, “You don't need to piss?” I felt the skin of my face flush. Shaking my head “no,” I quickly closed my knees to conceal the rising. He was soon back fishing away, apparently oblivious to the reactions his exposure was causing me.

The afternoon passed by slowly and, to my relief, there were no more “sightings”. The fish weren‟t biting well and the small lake bass that we did catch was returned to the water. Eventually Dad reeled in one suitable for eating. “This will fry up real fine,” he commented. Then he announced, “That's enough for today.”  I had learned over the years of my life that dad never provided a seque about what he was about to say, he just suddenly announced.  It often left people who he was speaking to fumbling to catch up what he was talking about.  

As late afternoon shadows crept over the lake we returned to the landing, loaded the boat, and headed home. Back at home Dad stripped to his Speedos again to begin gutting and cleaning the fish in preparation for the fry pan. I busied myself about the kitchen trying to help, though did change back into jeans after making the comment that the shorts “weren‟t comfortable.” He replied that he would buy me something more suitable and the subject was dropped.

Later that evening I rose to go to my room before bed. He asked that I wait a minute because there was something that he wanted to talk to me about. Approaching where I stood, he placed his hands on his hips and gave me a look that over the years I had come to dread. It said, “I know what's going on here and you're going to have to „fess up.”

“There‟s something I want to bring up with you Dave.”

That sounded ominous to me. I looked down to escape his gaze but only encountered the bulging package of the Speedo.

With disbelief I heard him blurt out, “Quit being so damned embarrassed about getting a hard-on. You had a tent going on in those running shorts half the afternoon.  Don't worry, we all get them over something. They're normal.”

“Crap,” I thought staring past the Speedo to the floor, he'd noticed all along. Was he suspicious about me?

“Don‟t worry about trying to hide it when it's just the two of us. Besides, I don't care what turns you on.” I looked back at him startled by what he said next, “What are you going to do if you come home some night and I'm sitting on the couch jacking and watching porn? Are you going to make me feel guilty?”

Dumfounded at the idea, I could only slowly shake my head "no,‟ my mouth gapping open.

“Just don‟' freak out on me if that happens.” Then, just as directly as he had begun, he said, “I‟m tired, we can talk about this another time.” Casually patting me on the shoulder he said, “Good night, son,” effectively ending any more conversation. He went to his room and closed the door.

I stood flabbergasted by this man but intrigued at the prospect of what he had just described. But before sleep could take me, I again became caught up in a melee of memories from earlier years, of times with friends exploring our bodies, of the one time I‟d spent with a girl that I had dated when she let me “cop a feel.” But now included in the usual mix were vivid thoughts of my father in and out of his Speedos. I imagined seeing his swollen cock, and even touching it. With a hard rod standing between my legs, I took hold of myself and stroked until hot spurts of cum splashed over my stomach and freed me to sleep.

I woke early the next day in another state of arousal. Lying on my stomach, I began pressing my hips down on the mattress until the discomfort of a full bladder became more immediate than feelings of pleasure.

Out of bed and on my feet, I paused before opening the door to consider if I should put on my pants before going to the bathroom. I didn't hear my dad about so I thought, “What the fuck, when in Rome….”

As I stepped from the room I was startled by the sound and sight of the door to my father's room opening and him stepping into the hallway completely naked with a boner to match my own, except his was thicker. We both frozen, just staring at each other. With a big chuckle, he broke the awkward moment with, “Looks like we‟ve both got a situation here.” Then he added while motioning me toward the bathroom, “You go ahead.”

Lowering my head in embarrassment I quickly stepped into the room, reaching to close the door behind me. His hand stopped the closing and he came in saying, “No way, buddy, I've got to go, too.”

Stepping beside me at the toilet, his hip nudged me over to make room for him and he pressed down on his erection to release a hard flow of urine into the bowl. I tried looking elsewhere but still felt my face redden as he said laughingly, “It's a bitch trying to piss with a hard-on, isn't it?”

As his stream began to slow, he asked, while looking directly downward at my crotch, “I‟m curious as to why you trim your pubes down down to a stubble? What's with that?” He said this nonchalantly as he shook his cock, and with his fingers squeezed out the last drop, “Is it something you younger guys are doing now?”

After much internal squeezing of my own, my bladder finally had let go even though the flow was thinned by the pressure needed to keep my dick pointing downward. Mumbling I responded with “I guess.”

He finished pissing and stepped back while continuing to look at my body, “I dated a chick once who shaved her pussy…”

“Dad,” I nearly yelled, “Quit looking at me so I can piss!”

Chuckling out loud he patted me on my butt cheek as he passed behind me. ”Sorry, I forget that you‟re so damn modest.”

I still had a raging erection, despite finishing my piss, and it sprang upward as I turned to the sink. After rinsing my hands I splashed cool water on my face in an effort to quell my reddening. Even through my embarrassment, all of this weirdness gave me a feeling of pleasure.

I left the bathroom still sporting wood to find him waiting for me outside leaning against the wall sipping on his coffee.

“We need to talk about this Dave,” he began. I suppressed an urge to cover myself but thought, “What the hell, since he's so damn uninhibited let him see it.” A small charge trilled through my stomach.

“In my opinion,” he began and I could tell that a speech was coming, “your mother and her freaky ways did a lot more harm to you than any behavior of mine ever could.”

Looking down at his own body, with his thick penis now hanging soft, he said, “If my going around this way embarrasses you, I‟m sorry. But in the long run, your ability to accept other people just the way they are means a lot more to me than all of this modesty you've picked up from her.” With a conspicuous glare he said, “Regardless of what life style you chose for yourself, it needs to be out of your choice or preference instead of someone else's hang ups,” he finished with an attitude of having spoken something profound.

I thought to myself, “Nero before the Senate couldn‟t have done better.” Out of a sudden impulse I blurted out without thinking, “Good, let‟s just hang a sign out front saying "Nudist Colony Inside.‟ With this outburst I felt the pressure release and my erect penis begin to withdraw.

He flinched with surprise and laughed out loud. “Great idea, you want to help me make one? It might be fun to see who shows up.” Then he got serious and began an explanation.

“Dave, I grew up with four brothers, as you know, and we all shared one room. From my earliest memories, there was no privacy between us. As soon as one of us hit puberty the subject in our room was sex, sex, and more sex. There was nothing sacred or private about any of our bodies.” Looking at me as though in sympathy he continued, “I realize that‟s not what you‟ve been used to, but I don‟t think this openness does any harm. If it does, I‟m sorry.”

Grateful for my erection subsiding, I decided to get honest. “Ok,” I spouted, “Since we‟re now going to be so open, I‟ve been wondering how come you‟re not circumcised,” I pointed downward towards his cock, “and I am?” It excited me to be so bold and to focus attention on his penis.

Looking down, he grabbed his foreskin and pulled his cock downward and out.

“He sure likes grabbing his dick,” I thought.

“You mean this? Shit, that was your mother again. She thought that everything about a man's prick was dirty. If she could have had yours cut off I think she would have.” He shrugged, “I don‟t know why she cared. She‟s barely touched one in her life.” He said this all the while continuing to stretch out his long foreskin.

The sight of this brought me swelling upward again. “Shit,” I thought to myself, “how can I stop this?”

Laughing and pointing down at me, he said “We‟d better talk about this some other time. You‟re boning up again.” I began to blush again. With a grin he continued, “If we have to wait for you to rub one off we‟ll never get there.”

Turning to enter his room he paused to casually throw out, “You do get pretty loud when you play with yourself in there, you know.”

Startled by this I snapped back; “What the fuck? That was uncalled for.”

“Hey, don‟t get bent out of shape, I‟m just teasing. I don‟t care what you do in your bed,” he added with a wink and a light punch my shoulder. Turning back into his room he continued with a big grin, “Besides, I get pretty loud myself. Like father like son, I guess,” he flippantly threw off while opening a drawer to reach for some underwear.

My face was steaming when I entered my room while quickly closing the door. I looked down to see my dick sticking straight up and thought, “And he thinks that my mother is weird.” At the same time I was unable to suppress the excitement in my belly. Being naked with my father had been not only embarrassing but thrilling at the same time. I rapidly dressed.

Our visit at my grand parents hurried by, and after a great lunch, Dad and I spent the afternoon engaged in cleaning their yard, doing some minor repairs around their house, and tuning my grandfather‟s car. Near sunset my grandmother arrived with a box of leftovers and announced that we should be heading back before it got dark.

We said our goodbyes and went on our way. Our conversation during the day and on the drive back was minimal and only about general things, though I was anxious to return to the subject of that morning and being naked together. I was filled with loads of questions, though wasn‟t sure if I could get them answered, or which might tick him off. Looking at his profile while he drove I took in how handsome he was. I also thought, “What a strange man my father is. How different he is from me.”

Once at home, famished after the day of work, we both dove into our dinners. I longed to renew the feelings of intimacy that I had felt that morning with my father.

“Man, do I feel dirty,” I announced after finishing my supper. “I guess I‟ll take a shower once I‟ve finished here,” I added in hopes that he would pick up the thread.

“Go ahead,” he replied, “if you want to.”

I was disappointed by his indifference and fumbled for a way to proceed. In my head I‟d already fantasized that he might join me in the shower, although I had no idea of the implications.

Dad finished up his own dinner and, on his way to the sink with his plate, said “Okay, since you want to clean up I have an idea.” Looking me directly in my face he asked, “Are you up for a little nocturnal adventure?”

I assured him that I was and he responded that he was thinking about showing me something different to do at night around here.

I asked “What‟s that?” but he only replied, “You‟ll see.”

After cleaning the table he then started undressing right in our kitchen. Then pointing toward me, he said “Strip down to your skivvies and shoes; the ground will be rough where we‟re going.”

On the command of “Strip,” I quickly undressed, excited by the prospects of what might be ahead. With no further explanation he headed out the back door followed by me with a tent beginning to show in my boxers. I was definitely feeling less inhibited about getting an erection with him around.

Looking backward he said, “Follow me.” he added while pointing upward, “There‟s a full moon tonight; we won‟t have any trouble finding our way.” He strode purposefully with me in pursuit across the one hundred or so yards to the back of his property where the state preserve began. Stopping at the border of barbed wire fencing, he pressed down on the bottom strand, lifted the one above and said, “Careful when you climb through.”

I stooped to climb between the wires and then held them apart while he followed. Once through the fence, he stopped and said, “We‟ll leave these here.” He pulled down his boxers, stepped out of them, and tossed them on a fence post in one smooth and apparently experienced motion. Noticing my hesitation he said, “Don‟t get silly on me.” So I followed in kind with some apprehension. Our exertion had caused my latest erection to subside.

“What if we get caught,” I thought, but figured I‟d better keep that to myself.

Walking ahead into the dark woods he followed a path that seemed familiar to him. As we passed in and out of shadows, the moon light revealed his nude shape in front of me. My eyes took in his broad frame with its slightly thickened waist, but mainly I fixated on the taunt round butt cheeks that rolled as he walked. I was tempted to grab one. With this thought, warm sensations filled my loins and my penis became heavier, starting to swing from side to side and hitting against my legs while I walked.

I asked where we were going, but he only replied, “You‟ll see.”

“Are you sure there‟s nobody in here?” I queried in a hushed tone.

“Nah, the park closes at night,” he replied.

“But aren‟t there guards?” I replied, my concern increasing as we got deeper into the park. I had fears of arrest, but chided myself. I sounded like my mother with her multitudes of concerns over me.

“Hell no,” he answered. “The state can‟t afford any. I figure that anybody else who‟s in here has their own reasons, same as us.”

“What are our reasons?” I wondered. I was still having trouble getting my mind around me walking around the woods naked with my dad. “Maybe this is a dream,” I mused, but quickly dismissed that. I did have to admit that, though still nervous, I was really enjoying the experience.

After perhaps a half-mile on the winding path, I saw ahead of us what appeared to be a bright clearing in the woods. Continuing to follow his lead, I stepped through a cluster of dense brush into an opening that revealed a pond, perhaps a hundred feet across.

“This is it,” he said as I came up beside him. “Its spring fed and flows into that small creek over there,” he said pointing. “It‟s five or six feet deep in the middle. I figured it would be more fun to clean up here than at home.” He added, “I come out here a lot.” He grinned at me as though to say, “I told you so.” After slipping out of his shoes he stepped into the water‟s edge to a bottom that quickly went downward. He was soon up to his shoulders in the water.

I slipped out of my sneakers and, after a few steps, was beside him in the cold water. “Brr,” I chattered, “this is cold.” My feelings of apprehension left me with the jolt of cold water.

“Yeah, it‟s from an underground spring,” he replied, slowing paddling his arms backward.

As we lazily floated around the pond, I began to relax more to the experience of being out here with my dad. Our legs brushed a few times causing a surge of warmth inside of me.

Though the water was bright from the moonlight, encased in walls of loblolly pines, oaks and box elders, the pond seemed to be a secret, shadowy place. I imagined that this was the place of an ancient initiation ceremony. Perhaps the native inhabitants had used it for that.

I eventually discovered a stony bottom leading upward to the creek. Bending forward and using my hands I scampered up to the beginning of the shallow creek that carried overflow from the pond. “It‟s rocky here,” I said back to my father.

“Yeah,” he replied, “be careful with your feet.” He soon emerged from the pond and I extended my hand to help him step up. We stood naked together in the creek bed while trickles of water flowed over the rocks and our feet.

“This creek eventually peters out,” he observed. “I think that the water eventually absorbs back into the aquifer below here.”

“How often do you come out here?” I asked, acutely sensitive to the feeling of us standing naked together; our bodies were nearly touching. I felt an upsurge of affection for this bohemian man.

“I come out here some,” was his reply. Laughing to himself he said self consciously, “I probably shouldn‟t tell you this, but I come out here to play a game I call Nature Boy.”

“Nature Boy,” I asked curiously, “what is that?”

“It‟s just a game I play in my mind,” he replied. “It helps me shake off my worries, any that I may be having over business or anything else. It reminds me of why I love living out here in the country.”

I realized at that moment that I truly had no idea of who this man was, until now I‟d only seen him before as “Dad.” Looking at him standing there it felt like I was meeting him for the first time. The thought made me uneasy, but at the same time I couldn‟t deny the erotic thrill that I was having.

“What‟s this Nature Boy thing?” I persisted. “You said that it‟s a game?”

“I shouldn‟t have said that it‟s a game,” he replied looking around. “It‟s more a state of mind, I‟d guess.” He hesitated before then turning to me and saying, “If you really want to know I suppose that I could teach you.”

Now curious, I said, “Sure, why not?”

He continued sternly, “I‟ll warn you; it‟s something that we‟ve never done before,” then a short pause before ending with “at least not together.” He added with a wry look, “And we both know that you get embarrassed pretty darn easily.”

Not sure of what I was getting into I decided to go along, “Sure, I mean I‟m game for anything and I‟ll try not to be embarrassed.”

“Just remember that you‟re the one asking here,” he said, sounding like it was a warning. He took a deep breath and began talking to me softly. “To play Nature Boy, you have to just let your mind go,” he said. “Those rules and restrictions about modesty that you‟ve been given in your life, your inhibitions, you just let them go. Do you think that‟s something that you could do, even though you‟re with me?”

“Well, I could try I guess,” I answered looking around the pond setting. “I mean, being out here like this is pretty strange anyway, at least to me.” I knew that deep within me I wanted more but wasn‟t sure what that was, so I added, “But I‟m ready.”

He looked at me for a while before saying, “My guess is that it‟ll probably get even stranger for you.”

Feeling as though I‟d stepped into an alternate world, I wanted to tell him how much his body turned me on, how I liked being out here naked with him, but I was at a complete loss for words, so I could only manage, “Sure, okay, let‟s go for it.”

After a look that I couldn‟t interpret, his voice took on a new tone, deeper and softer. He started by saying, “Begin to relax, let your arms hang by your side. Like this,” he demonstrated. “Close your eyes now and feel the air and moonlight on your skin. Feel how naked you are; imagine that you‟re all alone in the world. Can you feel any of that?” he asked.

Not wanting to appear dense, I assured him that I could, though I had no idea of what he meant. Turning my head slightly, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that he was looking upward toward the moon and that in his right hand he held his penis which he had begun lightly rubbing and retracting the foreskin to expose the bulb-like head. I could tell his dick was beginning to rise.

I blurted out with amazement, “Wow, you mean we‟re going to jerk off together out here?” I didn‟t know what I was feeling at the moment, but there was a big collision of wonder, excitement, and shock inside me.

“No,” he calmly answered, turning to me with a solemn look on his face, “it‟s about getting in touch with your body, learning to give yourself pleasure. It‟s not just jacking off your prick. I‟m aware that you know how to do that.”

I looked down to see that he was now about half-erect and still touching himself. The sight of him standing naked beside me while he touched himself in that manner sent my penis jolting upward like a 4th of July rocket.

Ignoring my erection he said, “Are you sure you want to go on?” Composing myself I gave an affirmative nod.

“The idea of all this is for you to release all of your reservations and tensions, everything that holds you back, any fear that you‟re having. You just stand exposed naked before all of nature.”

Before going on he paused while I shook my arms, took several deep breaths, and tried to relax the way he had described. But I remained tense, with my mind was screeching odd undecipherable things, and there was definitely nothing relaxed about my cock. .

He went on, “While you‟re standing here you start pleasuring yourself to begin the feelings. Try to experience a feeling of freedom while you‟re doing it. Let the

feelings you‟re having in your dick flow out through your whole body casting out all inhibitions.”

“Oh,” I answered, still uncertain I grabbed myself down there and began stroking.

He reached out to stop my arm saying, “No, that‟s not what I mean. “You‟ve got it wrong. This is about pleasure, not brute force.”

Though what he had just called “brute force” had always been fine with me, I looked down at my body and then his. My Dad was now fully erect and had his fingertips on his swollen rod. Noticing that I was glancing at him he said, “See what I‟m doing?” He lifted his erection to show that he was lightly rubbing the underside of his cock head. “Treat yourself the same way, be easy; experience all of the feelings that this can create.”

Growing confused I dropped my hand and said, “I‟m not sure of what you mean. That is how I always do it.”

“What a strange situation,” I thought to myself, “I‟m playing with myself right in front of my dad.” As peculiar as this felt, I was certain that I enjoyed it.

He hesitated and his voice seemed to tremble slightly when he said, “I may have to show you how, you know,” he hesitated as though he was searching for words, “so that you can get the idea.” Our eyes met as he whispered so low that I could barely hear the words, “Would it be alright if I touch you down there?”

Stunned by what he had just said, I stood speechless. Then he repeated with more emphasis, “Will my touching your penis be alright with you?”

I‟m sure that I nodded to signal that was alright, but I still gasped from surprise at the feel of his fingers touching my erection. At the same time his other hand reached around my shoulder as he gently pulled me towards him. My skin tingled from the sensation of our bodies slightly touching. I felt his hard cock brush against me leaving a trail of moist spots. My heart pounded wildly in my chest while shivers went across my body.

“You see,” his voice spoke softly, “it‟s about allowing yourself good feelings and letting them go all through your body. Don‟t be nervous, this is all new to you. What I‟m trying to show you is how to get in touch with yourself, with your feelings.”

His fingers lightly played with my swollen, dripping cock head. Pleasing sensations that I‟d never had began coursing upward into my body and down my legs like little rivets of electrical charges. I felt myself give way to a feeling of collapsing as my knees grew weaker. With effort I whispered breathlessly, “I can feel that.”

We leaned against each other while he gently stroked my engorged cock. Pre-cum was pouring from the swollen slit. I glanced down to see that his hand was covered in my juice. He laughed saying “I‟ve forgotten how much young guys drip.” He looked at me and lifting his hand up in the light said, “It‟s a beautiful thing.” The sticky fluid glistened on his fingers.

Sure that that I could never be shocked by him again, I was proven wrong as he nonchalantly drew his hand to his mouth and began lightly licking my pre-cum from his fingers. With my mouth gaping open I could only mutter, “Dad?”

When he was finished, he grinning at me as though the most ordinary thing had just happened before reaching down to begin gently stroking my erection again.

His fingers fluttered lightly over my swollen cock. With my heart beating a staccato, I said, “Dad, I don‟t know how much of this I can stand without shooting.” My entire body felt alive and was quivering from his touch.

“That‟s okay,” he whispered “but try to hold on as long as you can. Let yourself keep enjoying these sensations.” Next he started caressing my balls. His easy squeezing brought me closer to my limit. Unaware, I reached out to put my hand over his hip. My fingers dug into the glutinous flesh of his buttocks. He either didn‟t noticed or didn‟t care.

“Oh no,” I soon cried out while leaning my body into his and resting my head on his shoulder, “I can‟t hold it, Dad. I‟m going to cum.” With that ribbons of white cream shot out of me. As my knees went weak I fell against him. My lips pressed against his neck while I moaned with each spurt. Pushed against his body, I felt his hands on my backside. As I twisted and humped against him, I could feel his hard cock pressing against my stomach and his fingers between the cheeks of my ass.

Once I finished discharging, I stood in his embrace as my body shook and my legs trembled. I felt his feathery touch move over my back and down on my rear cheeks. Overwhelmed by the different sensations I had just experienced, I wanted to remain in his arms, to hide in them. He continued to stand and just hold me. Our stomachs, wet from my semen, pressed together.

“Are you alright Davie?” he eventually whispered softly. “Sit down on this big log over here for a while.” He cautiously guided me to a felled tree near the edge of the stream. I was dizzy, disoriented. My knees wobbled when I sat.

As my mind slowly shifted away from my feelings, I became aware of how much the moonlight filled the clearing and how streams of silvery light shown back into the trees. Illusions of different shapes appeared throughout the woods. Anxiety rose in my mind and I asked, “What if someone saw us?”

“So what?” he answered, “So what if someone saw us. Why would you care? They have no more business being here than we do. If they don‟t like what they see, they‟ll leave. If they like it, let them watch and enjoy.” With that he gave a shrug and a grin.

Looking at the pond I could see shiny ripples as tiny insects struck the water surface. All around me the dark shapes of the trees appeared to move in harmony with the breeze.

He was squatting down in front of me Indian style; his legs open, exposing himself. I gradually became more collected and noticed that he was stimulating himself.

“You sure are big down there, Dad,” I said while staring without any embarrassment at his genitals hanging down between his legs.

“You‟re not exactly small yourself David,” was his response. “Besides, I figure it‟s how you use it, not how much you use.”

Emboldened by his comment I replied in a stammer, “Will you give me tips on how to use it some day? Would that be okay?”

He hesitated before saying, “I suppose that would be alright.” Once again I felt that I was with someone who I‟d never known before. He was not my dad; he was a mystical priest of the forest that I had encountered out here. I knew that our old relationship had ended forever.

Looking about over the pond a nagging question came to my mind. “Have you been out here doing this before with,‟ I paused, “anybody else?”

He laughed then rose upright still fondling his organ. “Usually just myself, but there have been a few occasions,” was his reply. With what seemed like a sigh he continued, “Okay, there have been a few. Unfortunately, most women get uptight being outside like this.” He didn‟t offer an elaboration or explanation, so I decided to not ask for one.

“What are you feeling now?” he looked at me, continuing to touch himself. I had remained partially erect while recovering, but watching him had caused my prick to begin throbbing again. “You should share what you‟re feeling right now,” he repeated.

“Ok, I guess, it‟s all so new,” I said while looking downward, unaccustomed to the idea of sharing and baffled by the feelings I was having. “No,” I reconsidered, “I feel good, really great.” Then I looked back up at him and with a sly grin said, “So is there anything else you have to show me in this Nature Boy game?”

With a look of surprise, Dad chuckled before answering, “Sure, there are lots of other things I could show you, but this may be all too new for you.” He seemed to be considering something for a few moments before continuing, “I guess it‟s alright to give you some more new experiences.” I saw an ironic smile when he said “experiences.”

“Experiences,” I replied, “is what have we‟ve been having?” Feeling bolder I stood and stroked my shaft. “What other Nature Boy games can we play?” I said while looking at his hard cock.

“Slow down,” he answered while grinning, “now you‟re being greedy.” He paused again for a minute before he continued. “I suppose it won‟t hurt for us to keep going.” He paused and looked around. Then a slight hesitation appeared in his voice when he added, “This may all be very strange for you; but remember, this remains just between us.”

At that point he stepped toward me, took my hand and lowered it to his penis. Surprised by the feel of its warmth, I felt a surge through my own. With my touch, his breathing intensified and his chest noticeably heaved. My curiosity elevated knowing I could have this effect on him.

“Are you alright with touching me down there?” he asked quietly through his breathing. He waited until I nodded "Yes.‟

“Then move closer and get down on your knees.” When I stepped forward he said, “Care of the rocks.” I knelt down in front of him; his erection was directly in my vision. I still held it in my fingers.

“What you do now is up to you; you have my permission to use me to satisfy any curiosity you may have,” he whispered. The pounding of blood inside my head made him sound distant. “Please yourself,” he continued, “I may suggest some things if you‟re okay with that.” Again I my head moved to indicate „Yes.‟

Leaning my head forward I felt the head of his cock brush against my lips. I opened my mouth and slowly leaned more. My senses were engulfed and I inhaled sharply the instant I felt his head and shaft enter my mouth.

I jerked back abruptly, looking at him questioning. He only smiled and reached out to lightly finger my hair.

I leaned forward again and began lapping out at his swollen head. Its strange ripeness exhilarated me. My tongue twined around his shaft and eventually I kissed the dripping tip before encasing it with my lips to gently suck on him. The taste filled the cavities in my head. Sensations swirled through me as my breath came in small gasps. With guttural moans I ravenously took him into my mouth swallowing him as far as I possibly could before gagging.

This was all so new. I had to learn my limits. Tears formed in the corners of eyes as I begin moving my mouth back and forth on his cock.

Deep in my mouth I again felt the sensation of his head pressing against the back of my throat. This time I relaxed to it.

As my hunger grew I no longer worried that someone would see us, or what he might think. I reached around him to began rubbing and kneading his firm ass. I began to anticipate the burst that I knew would be coming from him.

Down between my legs my cock throbbed. Even though I had just recently cum I knew that I couldn‟t stand this new pleasure very long without shooting again. No more than a few minutes passed when I looked up at him and uttered between gasps, “I‟m getting close again.”

Taking my cock in my hand, my right arm and shoulder began moving with piston like tandem. Hot bursts from me soon began hitting my thigh and from my throat I cried aloud, but the sound was muffled in my mouth by his engorged flesh.

By the increasing pressure from his fingers on my skull and his hard breathing I knew that he was also near climax. Short snorts of air exhaled through his nose as his chest heaved and fell and his hips drove his hard shaft into my mouth. His thrusts became firmer and shorter.

He gave a sudden shudder and his upper body jerked abruptly when, at that instant, a hot, volcanic-like spray shot into my mouth. With awe I knew that my father was ejaculating. In spite of the unfamiliar flavor, I gobbled the fluid down like a starving animal craving more.

His moans were soft at first and then became louder as his juice continued in spasms. The salty-sweet taste of him filled my nasal passages; when I swallowed my eyes stung. A sound like the roaring of waves filled my head.

Slowly the squirting semen subsided. The motion in my mouth ceased. I quit my vacuum-like sucking, though my face remained pressed into his groin. His wiry hair tickled against my nose; it was wet from sweat and my drool. My erection began to go down while I lightly massaged his balls. I had no idea how long we stayed there like that, but it seemed hours.

With the ebbing of my passion, I became engulfed with a new feeling of satisfaction. On this night he had lit the dark corners of my mind and enlightened me to my nature.

After we both had grown soft, he assisted me to my feet and we stood facing each other; appearing as though we saw each other for the first time. He had become someone that I had never before met. Suddenly extending his arms, he reached out and pulled me forward into his embrace. He said nothing but I could feel his heart beating against my own. .

After a few moments we separated and I became aware of a chill in the air. “It‟s gotten colder,” I finally said, clearing my now raw throat.

“It‟s been getting cooler for a while; you just didn‟t notice with all the heat you were feeling.” Taking me by the shoulders he leaned close and with concern said, “Is everything we‟ve done alright with you?”

I averted my eyes but smiled and nodded „Yes‟ while reaching out to stroke his shoulder. Awkwardly I leaned forward and kissed him on his neck before saying briskly, “Yeah, sure, I‟m fine…great.” Though my voice sounded certain; my legs were still trembling. .

We separated and he stepped into the pond, squatting down while he washed his stomach and chest with water. “Your cum is all over me,” he spoke nonchalantly. Looking up toward me he added, “Don‟t you need to clean up?”

Following him I plunged into the pond until immersed by the cold water. Rubbing my stomach I shivered, “It‟s gotten really cold in here.” I emerged shaking the dripping water from my body.

After a few minutes of circling back around the pond before finding our shoes, Dad stopped and said with a laughing tone, “Now for a big piss.” He held his cock as an arching stream shot through the air and down into the pond. I quickly copied him. We playfully slapped the glistening arcs of spray together like children playing with water swords. My stream lasted longer and afterward we grinned as we shook our soft penises at each other. “The family that plays together…,” he said, concluding with a hearty roar.

Returning on the path that we had originally taken, I became aware of underbrush sweeping against my lower legs and an occasional branch brushing against my side and arms. Still, looking around the dark woods I had a sense of elation.

“So Dad,” I spoke out grandly. “Am I now officially a cock-sucker?” I said this with a grin on my face.

Unexpectedly he whirled and glared at me. Pointing his finger at me he said harshly, “Careful how you speak about yourself. You haven‟t changed. You‟re still you, and that‟s all you need to worry about being.” With that he turned and continued on the path.

I followed, shocked at the change in his tone. My light mood had vanished.

Soon we were back at the fence and I saw the underwear we had left tossed over the wire. It seems as though years had passed since we were last here.

“Here we are,” he said. With another shift of his tone he became frivolous, “How was your most excellent adventure?” Dad often made joking references to the title of a movie that we had watched together years before.

I watched while he grabbed his boxers and bent over to step into them. I said, “Dad.”

“Yeah, what is it?” was his reply, as he stood upright to begin pulling on his boxers. Suddenly he paused, with his soft cock still hanging over the waist band, and looked at me expectantly for a few seconds. An unspoken conversation seemed to fill the moment. Then, with a shift of his hips, he slowly pulled his underwear all the way on.

Realizing that he had been waiting for me to say something, I found a verve previously unknown and said aloud, “I love what you did with me back there Dad.”

He grabbed out and pulled me to him. As his arms encircled me I heard a muttered reply just before our lips met. My heart swelled while we stood with our bodies and mouths pressed together and our tongues lapping the other. Then we separated and, without saying another word, walked home.

 

Chuck

Top


Rate Story Choose rating between 1 (worst) and 10 (best).

Bookmark and Share

blog comments powered by Disqus